The Letters
by Death Files
Summary: Light Yagami enters the Wammy's House at age 9. There he meets twenty-five mysterious pupils whom are all called by a letter. The most fascinating answers by the letter L. As unhealthy as it is, Light immediately finds himself enticed by him. [LxLight] [MelloxNear]
1. R

**Disclaimer: Death Note belongs to Takeshi Obata and Tsugumi Ôba. I do not own it.**

* * *

 _The Letters_

 **Chapter 1: R**

A firm knock on the door caused the nine-year-old boy to raise his head from his pumpkin soup, eyes narrowing at the front door.

"Who might that be at this hour?" His foster mother growled under her breath, before throwing her napkin on the table, standing up to answer the door.

His foster father did not even flinch and kept eating in silence, without sparing a glance to his wife nor his adoptive son. Light Yagami paid it no mind. His foster father was not the type to speak uselessly, to be quite honest, he did not talk much at all. Instead, he followed the incredibly tall and skinny blonde woman that was his mother for five months now with focused eyes as she walked to the door, opening the door carefully.

"What is it?" She snapped through the gap. Light did not react at his mother's roughness. She was the kind of woman to always be unpleasant whether there was a reason or not, though she was not as cold-hearted as she looked.

"Good evening, Madam." Said a warm, gentle voice. "Are you Mrs Darwin?"

"Yes, I am. What is it you want?"

"Ah, I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour, but I am here for you son. He is here, I believe?"

His mother shot him a glance above her shoulder, then reported her attention to the intruder.

"What do you want?" She repeated stubbornly, her voice more and more chilly.

"Pardon me, I forgot my manners." The man said cheerfully. His voice sounded old and yet so very steady. "My name is Watari. I am here for your adoptive son, Raito. He has been accepted into our noble institution, the Wammy's House, School for the Gifted and Talented."

Eventually, Mrs Darwin opened the door more widely, stepping aside to let an old man enter, allowing Light to sneak a peek at the new comer. The man had white hair and moustache, he wore a black trench coat and a very formal bowler hat which he instantly removed as he got inside, closing his umbrella in the process. When he raised his head, blue half-closed eyes behind rectangular spectacles laid on him.

"Hello, Raito."

"My son is called Light." Mrs Darwin spat.

"Since you and your husband brought him to England and gave this new name to him, certainly," Watari stated softly, "but he was born in Japan and his birth name is Raito Yagami." He then walked forward to the dinning table, then bowed respectively at his foster father, who barely nodded in acknowledgment, before he turned to Light, a brilliant smile tugging at his pale lips.

"It is nice to meet you, Raito. As you must remember, you did pass a test at school yesterday morning, and the results prove that you are indeed part of a very narrow elite population that we call geniuses. The school which sends me is meant to educate and teach extraordinary children who has lost their parents, just like you. Now dear child, you must come with me. I will escort you to your new home."

Light Yagami frowned ever so slightly as he put his spoon down. "Am I going to an orphanage?" He asked, extremely calm. "Even though I am in a foster family?"

Watari bent downwards to level himself with Light's straight face. "Yes, the Wammy's House is an orphanage. It will replace the foster care that is not the appropriate place for you to grow up."

The young boy glowered at the old man for several seconds, then propping himself up, he stood up from his chair. "Okay." He said neutrally. "I'll go pack my things, then."

And the child exited the dining room without further ado, leaving his foster parents to deal with the mysterious old man. Surely enough, as soon as Light had disappeared in the staircase, Mrs Darwin turned her cold blue eyes to Watari.

"What's the meaning of this? I thought we had been chosen to raise this child?" She asked haughtily.

"Indeed, you have." Watari answered evenly. "However, one of our pupils left the orphanage recently and so we had a vacant place that we ought to fill. That is why tests had been submitted to all the orphans in the world. Your son obtained the greatest results by far. A very intelligent child you have here, Mrs Darwin."

"Fine. Admitting what you are saying is true, what if we weren't willing to let the child go with you?"

"Ah, but I am afraid you have no choice, Mrs Darwin." The white-haired man chuckled smoothly as he reached down to his suitcase, rummaging into it before he pulled out a fair piece of paper, extending it to the woman. "There you are, the court order awarding the child custody to our establishment."

"W-What?" The foster mother stuttered as she gripped the sheet into her slightly trembling hands. "But there hasn't been any judgment! The test was barely yesterday, how can a judge pronounce on the custody so quickly?"

"Judges can be very farsighted when dealing with children's best interests, Mrs Darwin."

"But we didn't even know there was a hearing taking place!"

"Leave it be, Katherine." A raspy, cracked voice imposed silence on the two protagonists. For the first time since Watari's arrival, the father had spoken, his elbows resting on each side of his empty soup plate, the tips of his finger touching. "It seems obvious that this institution disposes of powers that are beyond us. Its fonder must have connections we cannot even imagine. Now let's face it: we always knew that child was no ordinary child. He doesn't belong with us."

Katherine's piercing eyes met her husband's brown ones, and there was no trace of tenderness nor love in those icy, cutting orbs. The Darwins must have given up on love a long time ago.

As if on cue, Light appeared at the foot of the stairs, a huge luggage hanging on his frail arms, though his blank features showed nothing of the effort he was providing to bear its weight. He walked towards Watari and let the bag fall at the old man's feet.

"Very well." Watari said in his usual false innocent tone. "Are you ready, Raito?"

"Yes." The brown-haired boy answered without a single hesitation.

"Very well. Then shall we?" He gestured towards the door, before picking up the trunk. Without another word, the old man and the nine-year-old child headed towards the front door under Mrs Darwin's puzzled look.

As Watari pushed the handle, a harsh voice stopped him.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Light?" Katherine called, and for the first time, her voice carried an ounce of uncertainty.

Ever so slowly, Light whirled around to look at his mother with empty eyes.

"Goodbye Katherine, goodbye Klaus." He said emotionlessly, his amber eyes boring into his mother's, then lingering on his father for a flittering instant.

And the young genius along with the old man stepped out of his childhood house, leaving his past behind with the strong intention of never going back.

* * *

In the black limousine, conflicting feelings were running through Light's mind as he stared at the green, peaceful landscape that spread behind the tinted glass. On one hand, he was soothed to have left his former life which was nothing but boring, on the other hand, he was slightly excited to begin this new one, which promised to be mysterious and challenging.

He spent the first hour of travelling in complete silence, which didn't bother him in the slightest, but this was not meant to last for Watari was glaring at him with half-lidded eyes, before he spoke in a stiff tone.

"We shall arrive at the Wammy's House in two hours approximately," he said matter-of-factly, "but before we arrive, there are a few things that you must know about your new home."

Light shifted his interrogating gaze to the old man sitting in front of him, his hands folded on the dark briefcase lying on his lap.

"First of all, this is a very selected house. There are only a total of twenty-six children, girls and boys from four to sixteen years old, including you. You are all sharing the same classes and courses." Light frowned slightly at this, and Watari smiled faintly. "Your age doesn't matter, for your intelligence is of the same standard."

The child nodded in understanding, waiting patiently for the man to continue.

"All these children have no name. To address them, we have assigned them a letter." Watari plunged a large hand into his suitcase, pulling out a white sheet of paper which he held out to the nine-year-old kid.

"From now on," he stated solemnly, as if he was about to christen him, "you will not be Light anymore, nor will you be Raito Yagami." He paused, his half-closed eyes lowering to the sheet in Light's hands.

Brows furrowed, Light glanced down at the paper where three short black lines were carved, like a sentence.

 _R_

 _Room 18_

 _Seat 18_

The child raised his head to peer at the old man who was looking back at him through thin glasses with severe blue eyes.

"You will be _R_."

* * *

 _The Wammy's House._

There it stood, behind that dark wrought iron gate with its name carved on it, old, classic, white stone, as proud and as pure as a church.

R — for that was his name from now on — followed Watari in the empty courtyard and into the remarkable building, through the hall with its black and white tiling, through the marble stairs, through a blinding white corridor with windows every three meters apart, and finally, to a dark wooden door which the man pushed open. He stepped aside, smiling down at the child and motioning for him to get inside.

R entered a large, wooden-floored room. The opposite wall consisted of giant bookshelves in front of which lay a fair wooden desk and a black wheel chair.

R took a few steps forward, looking around curiously. Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to the wheeled chair which spun around abruptly, revealing a crouched silhouette sitting on it, its head tilted to the side, covered with dark disheveled hair like a thousand wires. This figure was as appealing as a ghost. Pale skin, skinny limbs, black circles under bottomless eyes, white shirt and blue jeans. Its legs were bent to its chest, livid hands resting on its knees.

"Ah, L." Watari spoke behind him. He seemed rather unfazed by this odd appearance. "There you are. Well," he placed a warm hand on R's shoulder, "please meet our new student, R."

The dark orbs fell upon the nine-year-old kid and R was crossed by an icy shudder.

"Hello, R." A deep, low voice said. It sounded like a machine. Cold, mechanical, emotionless. Then, the mysterious white and blue silhouette stood up, or rather jumped from the chair. Rounding the desk, the ageless man came to stand right in front of the child, hands in its jeans pockets, shoulders hunched.

Suddenly, a spider-like hand emerged from the jean pocket and raised towards the new student.

"I am L."

R eyed the lean, pallid hand suspiciously, then looked up at L's face. He was surprised to meet hypnotizing onyx eyes. All of a sudden, he felt like he could not tear his gaze off these two twinkling orbs. He reached up ever so slowly and shook L's hand. The older's hand was just like the rest of his body. Chilling, inhuman.

"Very well." Watari broke the unbearable silence, but his authoritative voice did not manage to separate the two hands still intertwined. "L, please go back to your room. If I recall well, you have class very early tomorrow morning." Then, turning to the small new student. "It seems the deputy director has already retired for the night. I will introduce you to him first thing tomorrow morning. Come with me, R. I shall lead you to your room."

At the sound of his new name, R was pulled out of his trance, as if struck by lightning, and he withdrew his hand from L's, nodding slightly. As if automatically, L's hand returned to its original place, his jeans pocket, but his dark penetrating eyes remained fixed on R, as if dissecting him.

The white-haired man frowned, shooting a quizzical glance at his older pupil who did not bother to acknowledge him, his attention still focused on the child. Shrugging, Watari took hold of R's shoulder once again and lead him towards the exit.

R, on the other hand, was walking at Watari's side, letting the caretaker bring him wherever he wished, for his mind was elsewhere.

 _These eyes... Why couldn't I look away? It was like being eaten alive. It was... intoxicating._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Here is the first chapter of my new story. It's a little short I know, but it's meant to set the scene. The next chapters will be longer.

In this story, Light is an orphan raised by foster parents until he is admitted into the Wammy's House. There he will meet all the famous geniuses we cherish so much. More importantly, he meets the oldest student, L, and soon finds himself fascinated by him. For an unknown reason, the feeling seems mutual. How will their relationship evolve over the time they'll spend together? Who are the other child prodigies? That's what I'll be telling you in this fanfiction.

I hope you liked the first chapter and the general idea of this fanfiction.  
 **Please share your thoughts and leave a review, that would mean a lot!**

Bye bye, humans!

 _ **C.**_


	2. C

**To LottieRaven:** I am really glad to find you here, following this story, and trusting me to make a good thing out of this. Thank you for your support and for being my most faithful reader, like always.  
Indeed, I was planning on writing a story focused on L and Light, but I can't help introduce Mello and Near too. There will be the other successors and some original characters also (because the original story doesn't introduce all Wammy's pupils), but they will have a minor role.  
I am glad you liked the first chapter. I was trying to write a proper introduction to set the scenery.  
Actually, I respected the date of birth of all the characters. I wanted it to match the original plot as much as possible. The only differences (huge ones, of course) is that Light is an orphan and L is still at Wammy's. Apart from that, L is still the world's greatest detective and he's still seven years older than Light (R). So in the first chapter, L is sixteen years old. The age gap might seem a bit unhealthy at first, but that's only the introduction, the heart of the story will set when R is older so it won't be that important.  
Anyway, you shall see!

 **To Lillybean123:** I respected all the characters' birth dates. So in the first chapter, L is sixteen years old. It's a great age gap, but when they'll grow older, it won't matter anymore.

 **To MIKE:** Thank you for your support, I hope you like this chapter!

 **To MickaChan:** Thank you for your enthusiasm, it really means a lot to me. It encourages me to write. So here is the next chapter, I hope you'll like it.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: C**

After a short visit in the vice-director's office where he met another glasses-wearing old man named Roger on the next morning, R was lead to the orphanage cafeteria at 7 o'clock. Instead of the empty, silent corridors, he was surrounded with long, endless wooden tables, parallel to one another, covered with mouth-watering food. But what struck him most was not the classy, silver dishes filled with milk, coffee, tea, juices, fruits, eggs, bacon, thousand types of cereals and jams, cookies, scones, breads and toasts.

No.

The most striking element in this bright, high-ceiled room was that all the students were sitting at different parts of a table... alone.  
In fact, that was not completely true. Some kids were reunited in small groups. The biggest group counted three children.

Geniuses appreciated solitude.

It would seem R had landed in the appropriate place, after all.

With his platter overflowed with toasts, milk and cereals, R walked to the nearest table, lacking an empty table, where a tall, matte-skinned boy looked as if he was sorting out his food into different glass jars. R sat in front of him and started eating in silence, without sparing him a glance. He drank in his bowl of milk, accompanied by the soothing sound of salad leaves flying into a glass jar.

"You mus' be the new kid. R, right?" The dark-skinned boy spoke in a rough, husky voice. R merely nodded in response. "Nice to meet you." The African-typed kid continued, his black pupils still fixed on the jars that contained different components such as cucumbers, tomatoes and other condiments.

R's brown eyes fell on a tiny red spot that tainted one salad leaf. He put down his bowl to look closer, frowning. The mysterious boy was not only storing food inside jars. He was collecting animals. The small red patch was a ladybird.

"I'm C. But everyone calls me _Coal_." The black-skinned child stated neutrally while he let a mushroom fall into another jar. "By the way, did you see E yet?" For the first time, the other student raised his head, his black orbs boring into R's.

"E?" He arched an eyebrow as he bit into a toast.

"It's the first girl who got into the House. Explains why we call her _Eve_. She's the one who gives the nicknames. You didn't meet her, did you?"

R only shook his head.

"Well, you'll have to go to her."

"I don't want a nickname."

"Well," Coal shrugged as he leant in closer, peering at one of his jars attentively, "she'll give you a nickname anyway. Everyone gets one. We can't go with only a letter, can we? Only L doesn't have a nickname." He added quietly, as if R was not meant to hear that.

"L?" The famous letter caught his interest. R glanced up from his cereals. "Why?"

"Don't know. Maybe 'cause he's the best student. The oldest, too. He's got some benefits we don't, I s'pose."

R's eyes wandered over the many heads that crowded the place, until his gaze froze on obsidian eyes that instantly locked with his, and he found himself unable to avert these two mesmerizing black orbs.

L was sitting opposite him, though at the other edge of the cafeteria, at the very last table standing right next to the white stone wall. His knees bent to his chest, his spider-like hand closed around a fork which was planted in a giant slice of cake, he was perfectly motionless as his pupil-less eyes pierced through R.

After what seemed like an eternity, L finally looked down, focusing back on his cake. And the charm was broken.

Mirroring the elder, R reported his gaze on his now empty bowl.

"If you're thinking about approaching _him_..." Coal interrupted his thoughts, still he could as well be talking to his animal friends as he was still staring at his jars thoughtfully, without paying attention to the younger student.

"Give up."

All of a sudden, the frizzy-haired boy gathered all his jars into his void plate and stood up, revealing a white stained shirt and green plaid pants with emerald braces. In a blink of an eye, he disappeared from the cafeteria. And R attended to his last toast of orange marmelade.

 _We're all geniuses. That's why... We are all **mad** here._

* * *

The classes were very bizarre, to say the least. Like in any other school, there was a teacher — man or woman — who spoke to them and wrote some statements or calculations on a dark board. But there stood the main difference: instead of requiring of them to solve the equations or decipher the words, the teachers simply sat at their desk at the front of the room, after one same odd sentence they all pronounced solemnly, their eyes flying over the whole class, "Here is your predicament. Do whatever you can."

So R did what he was being told. He plunged himself into his blank sheet and tried to solve the problem... but it would seem that was not how it worked at the Wammy's House.

As soon as the teacher sat at their desk, one child exclaimed, almost shouting, saying what he thought at loud to the entire class. Then naturally, another kid answered, which lead other students to retort and participate. And so the class begun.  
These classes were not about reflecting on an issue, for that would be too ordinary. This was about debating, defending their point of view, trying to convince the other students that their way, their ideas was the best.

This classes were not about individual prowess. It was about proving that _you_ were the cleverest.

R smiled to himself.

 _I am going to prove them._

 _Yes, finally. Finally my life is going to be a challenge._

They were in Economy class, and the daily subject was "the gender theory". A blonde, black clad boy younger than him, six years old perhaps, a few ranks before him, was grunting to express his views.

"Gender theory, uh? The name says it all, doesn't it? The gender _theory_ , not the gender demonstration or whatever." His blonde bangs swung on his shoulders as he shrugged. "It's only a theory, nothing about it is true."

"If it's only a theory," R replied smoothly, his gaze fixed on the black-dressed back, "why then do the game industries take it into account to design their games? Barbie dolls for girl and cars for boys, for instance? Theory or not, it does have an impact on the business world, and as a consequence, on the mere consumer. Whether the ideas they spread are right or wrong, they're implanted in the people's brain all the same. So now the question is, what does the government gain from it?"

"That is the question, indeed."

A deep, cold voice imposed silence on the whole assembly, as well as on the teacher who looked at the front rows of chair in awe. R scanned the room for the student who dared answer him, but he could not find where the entrancing voice came from.

For the first time since the beginning of the class, the middle-aged teacher cleared his throat. "What do you mean, L?" He asked hesitantly, his voice trembling slightly.

R widened his eyes.

 _L? The oldest, greatest student? Is that him?_

"What I mean, professor," the emotionless voice continued, immune to the general astonishment, "is that R asked the correct question. However..."

"However?" The teacher frowned at the white and blue crouched silhouette R had just spotted several ranks before.

"However I have an answer to provide him."

R arched a quizzical eyebrow, waiting for that oh so expected answer.

"Yet, I am sure R could have figured it out himself as the answer is quite simple. What the government gains from the gender theory is obvious, for it is the two things it has ever sought." He paused, as if rejoicing in the effect he was producing. "Money and legitimacy. I will not dwell on the former, I believe that much is clear. About the latter, it is a bit more complicated. The gender theory aims to prove that men and women do not share the same interests, nor the same activities. By doing that, they can justify all the inequalities they are unable to eradicate. Indeed, what a better way to protect the patriarchy than convince the whole population that it is not the government who wishes to treat women differently, but the entire society. To summarize, for the government, the gender theory is nothing but a—"

"Weapon."

R had spoken without warning, nonetheless this did not mean he hadn't thought out his assertion. Unsurprisingly enough, his intervention was followed by a deathly silence.  
The nine-year-old child, after several days of class, had gathered that L, the oldest and cleverest student, probably never talked in class, and to cause him to speak for the first time, that was already considered science-fiction, but to dare interrupt him like that, that was nothing short of a miracle.

R raised his head to meet the teacher's protruding eyes, as if waiting for the only adult in the room to break the tense silence. But it did not happen. Instead of the drowsy tone of the grey-haired man, a cool, mechanical voice echoed in the classroom, imposing a new respectful, thick silence upon the audience.

"It would seem I finally found myself an equal."

L's voice was so low, so neutral it could as well have been a tribute or a mortal threat. And when the teacher dismissed the children, R, just like the twenty-four other pupils, was left speechless, while a soundless, baffled whisper was running through the rooms and corridors of the House, twirling and swirling in all the inhabitants' heads.

 _L has never considered someone an equal._

* * *

After dinner, R crossed the path of many other students going back to their dormitories, just like him. In fact, there were no proper dormitories at Wammy's House, for every pupil had their own bedroom and bathroom.

The rooms were all situated on the second floor, in a large, luminous white corridor which contained two rows of doors facing each other. Above the door lay a number, while on the upper part of the door was carved a letter, the number corresponding to the place of the letter in the alphabet. Thus, R was staying in Room 18, whose door wrote the letter R.

On his way to Room 18, R bumped into the Deputy director, who looked down at him coldly.

"Good evening, R. Please go to your room." The icy blue eyes of the vice-director then lingered somewhere above R's head, which caused the latter to glance back over his shoulder. Roger called whoever was walking behind him, his tone harsh and final. "E. When will you stop drinking this at any time of the day and night?"

Eventually, R was able to picture the person the old man was talking to. A tall, slender feminine silhouette drew from the darkness, revealing a chestnut-haired girl with amber eyes, straight nose and strict cheekbones. Her wavy hair was so long they covered her backside completely. On top of her head rested a scarlet red wool bonnet. She was wearing an oversized crimson velvet jumper which almost hid her hands and a thin, black velvet leggings which ended with black high boots. When R followed Roger's eyes, he caught sight of a large balloon glass filled with a dark red liquid matching the girl's sweater perfectly.

Her appearance gave off a general feeling of quirky refinement and an aura of secretive calm compared to that of a cryptic, welcoming fortune teller. She seemed hardly younger than L, probably around fourteen or fifteen years old.

When her dark amber eyes rose to lock with Roger's, her lips painted in dark red stretched to form a deviant smile. When she spoke, her voice was smooth like silk and yet sharp like a golden knife.

"I am merely thirsty, Roger. But who isn't, in these times of drought?" She tilted her head to the side, and he thought for an instant that her cap would fall, but it didn't. "It seems some of us managed to find solace in the desert, isn't it? Well, it is a scarce commodity." Then, her gleaming eyes fell on R and her lips widened. "Goodnight, R. Do not forget to close your window."

And as soon as it appeared, the velvet ghost vanished into the dark. R dared to look up at the Deputy director to find him glaring daggers at empty space, and he deduced that the senseless girl left Roger just as frustrated as himself. Then, the white-haired man lowered his gaze to the child, his vitreous eyes glowering behind his rectangular spectacles.

"Go to your room now, R." He said gravely as he dusted his vest. "Goodnight."

And he passed him, his shoes clapping on the parquet floor. But as R had placed a hand on his doorknob, he heard the footsteps stop.

"Oh, and..." Roger marked a pause, clearing his throat, as if reluctant to say what he was about to tell him. "Close the window."

R simply nodded to show his understanding as the knob clicked open. He entered his room, locking the door behind him, and he couldn't suppress a shiver. He switched on the light, and searching for the source of the chilling breeze, he looked up. He froze.

The window was wide open.

* * *

A loud banging noise extricated the new Wammy's child from his peaceful slumber.

Groaning, he disregarded the linen and rose from his bed. He headed to the door and opened it swiftly. He frowned at the sight before him. Three pairs of twinkling eyes met his.  
Before him stood a toned, well-built shaved boy whose body was coated with tattoos, a slightly smaller one completely clad in denim and a ghostly, pallid girl with tangled platine hair, wearing nothing but a body-lengthed white nightshirt which dragged on the ground and a cotton shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders. They all looked not older than twelve years old.

"R?" The biggest of the three growled at him.

"Yes, it's me." He yawned, raising a hand to his mouth. "What do you want?"

The tall bald boy weighed him up, crossing his arms above his muscular chest. "We wanna know why you're so different."

R furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief, the tiredness obviously not helping his lethargic state. "What do you mean, different?"

"Different." The older boy huffed, as if stating the evidence. "L called you his equal. He never said that, not even to E or N. So tell me, R." He spat, leaning closer, his brown eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Why are you so different?"

"Well, I don't know." R sighed wearily, trying to gather all the patience he had left. "To be honest, I don't know him very well. I've heard many things about that mysterious _L_ , but I never really talked to him. I'm sorry but I can't answer you."

"Ah!" The tattooed kid scoffed raucously, and his jean clad friend echoed him while their white girl friend startled slightly, joining her hands together, her bloodless lips moving in silence. "Don't serve me this, R." He lowered his voice to a dangerous, menacing murmur as he reached up to put a hand on the wall above R's shoulder. "I know there's something. There must be something 'cause L never considered any of us. He doesn't care. He's like a machine! He never talks to anyone." The older child clenched his jaw. "As far as we know, the only person he ever acknowledged is Eve, and we're not even sure he talked to her! But then you came and suddenly he started to speak! He even participated to a class! He addressed you directly! He called you his equal! It must mean something!"

All of a sudden, it was as if the remaining of control he had snapped and the agitated boy seized R's collar, bringing his face to his violently. "So now, you're gonna tell me, little one! What did you do? Who are you? Why are you so different? Why does L—"

"Why don't you ask him directly, G?" A deadpan voice coming from the dark cut him off abruptly.

G let go of R at lightning speed and stepped back, turning on his heels to face the slouched silhouette that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Blinking in shock, the bald boy held his hands up in defeat, stuttering miserably.

"Hey, L! Uh... We didn't mean to— I mean, we only wanted to know... We wished no harm, you know!"

"Of course." L said, his voice as cold as frost. He approached the small group that had formed in front of Room 18, and his onyx eyes instantly found R's brown orbs. "G, J, V." He called emotionlessly, without averting his gaze from R once. "I suppose you do not want Roger to know about this little nocturnal getaway of yours." R swore he saw G and J shudder in fear. "So now go back to your dormitories. In _silence_."

At his greatest surprise, the three kids did not argue and left to their respective rooms. R did not move, even when the dark-haired male walked towards him and reached out a bony hand that found his shirt collar, fidgeting around his neck in an attempt at arranging it. His touch was as chilling as his voice.

"I apologize for the disturbance." L declared quietly as he withdrew his hand slowly, tucking it back into his pockets. "Young children are always the most troublesome. I hope aging will bring a little wisdom to these three imps."

R eyed the older boy suspiciously, not even bothering to nod in agreement.

"Very well. Now you should go back to sleep, R." L added silently, and R was sure his voice had turned softer. "I shall see you tomorrow in class. Goodnight."

With those words, the oldest student turned away and started towards the other end of the corridor, when R half whispered half shouted at him.

"Wait, L!" He heard L's deadly slow footsteps freeze and his figure came to a standstill in the semi darkness. "Do you never talk to anyone? Am I different?"

In the gloomy light, he believed he saw L's shoulders raise and fall, as if suppressing a chuckle, or perhaps a sigh.

His body was completely motionless, shining white in the shadows, when he answered so quietly only R could hear his phantom voice.

"You are different."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Here is the second chapter, which introduced you to other Wammy's children. I hope you liked it.

Next chapter, there will be a time jump. The whole story will set when R and L are older, so the first years will pass quickly.

Anyway, thank you for reading. **Please tell me what you think and leave a review, that would mean a lot to me.**

Bye bye, humans!

 ** _C._**


	3. Q

**To LottieRaven:** Thank you for all those compliments, you flatter me.  
You're right, for now there is just that feeling of curiosity and fascination between L and Light, but it will soon evolve into something else, as you may have guessed.  
Don't worry, it's perfectly normal for you to wonder if I had stuck to the real age of the characters. I must admit I don't like it when fanfictions are not faithful to the original plot regarding that particular point, because the age gap is part of this relationship's charm if I can say that.  
Once again, I thank you for your encouragement and support, it really means a lot. My craziest dream would be to become an author, but that is far from easy, to say the least. I have actually published two of my works on a french website, but as they belong to the very infamous category of 'tales', I did not get many feedbacks. But perhaps one day, I'll take the matter into my own hands and try to contact an editor. I have nothing to loose anyway.  
Indeed, the rivalry will be very present in this story. It's unavoidable when you lock up twenty-six genius together in a house, I suppose!  
Anyway, thank you for always reviewing and sharing your thoughts, it's always very pleasing to read from you.  
So here is chapter 3, I hope you like it!

 **To LM273:** Thank you very much for your feedbacks, I really appreciate it!  
About L's future, I won't tell you anything. You shall see when the time comes ;)  
I admit I was a bit unsure about my work on the Wammy's kids, but I am glad you think I did a great job out of it. Finding a unique personality to all the children was a bit difficult, but I hope I managed it somehow.  
Well, I will not say anything about R's nickname neither, I would hate to ruin the surprise! So once again, you shall see...  
I'm really happy you like that story. Here's the next chapter, I hope it'll be to your liking!

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Q**

It had been a year since Raito Yagami became R, one of the most clever pupils of Wammy's. And over this one year, R had reached a very obvious conclusion.

The Wammy's House exuded logic and order. Yet, there was one tiny little detail that tarnished that perfect, well-oiled gear that was the School for the Gifted and Talented. And that thing resided in the person of R's neighbor, who was sleeping next-door and who sat at the desk on his left in class.

His letter was Q.

While every child in the House had been assigned a nickname according to this first letter, depending on whatever capacity or speciality that characterized them, Q was different.

For his nickname was Matt.

And that irrelevant, preposterous inconsistency disturbed R to no end, so much that he had promised himself to solve that ridiculous mystery.

"Hi, R."

The auburn-haired boy greeted him every morning with that same absent, cheerful voice. His eyes were always hidden between huge tinted goggles, lowered to a small twinkling screen of some portable game console.

He was perhaps one of the most pleasant and joyful student, however his merry façade never reached his lips nor his eyes, showing that he was probably as hollow as any other Wammy's kid. The only words that left his mouth were made of jests and sarcasm, yet for some reason he valued his mask of happiness over everything else, including sincerity.

"Hello, Matt." He replied dryly as he took a seat in front of the six-year-old kid, keeping his eyes to his cereals bowl and scones.

R often found himself eating his breakfast at the same table as Q, for he was one of the rarest children to not attempt to engage in a conversation, nor make some disruptive noises, nor stare at him with inhuman, piercing eyes.

Nonetheless, it had been one year of speculations and theories, and he had to know. So, for the very first time, he was the one trying to initiate dialogue.

"I've been wondering..." He began, sounding as detached as one could possibly be. "Why that nickname?"

The lithe fingers froze above the buttons of the console, and green-goggled eyes raised to meet his, blinking at him.

"You're talking to me?" Q asked, dumbfounded, pointing a finger at himself.

R slowly reached up with his hand holding a spoon, waving the cutlery in a circular motion. "Do you see anyone else sitting at this table?" He inquired haughtily, quirking a disdainful eyebrow.

"Fair point." Matt shrugged his shoulders, reporting his attention on his video game. "Well, I'm not sure why I've got that nickname. I've been told Eve wanted to call me ' _Queer_ ' but people told her two years old was a bit early to determine a kid's sexual orientation so..." He pouted in indifference. "She called me _Matt_ instead."

R glared at the younger boy in pure exasperation, until the latter straightened up in his seat, shooting him a delighted glance.

"Nah, I'm kidding." He grinned widely, looking back down at his console. "I've really no idea. You know what they say. _Never question Eve, cause you won't understand a single word._ "

R didn't answer, settling for his appetizing toasts instead, pondering what he just learnt, which in this case, was approximately nothing. It would seem he was left with not much of a choice.

He had to ask the only one who had a say in matters of nicknames.

 _Eve._

* * *

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, all the pupils had got out from a trying Mathematics class, and for once, R followed the crowd of children to the common room. A large, well exposed hall with numerous grand windows and beige parquet floor which contained several black and white sofas and armchairs, and some game areas, like televisions or more modest equipments like Legos, puzzles, chessboards, and so on.

R usually never went to that room where all the kids gathered after class, for the very reason that he did not like the company of others. But there was his only chance to obtain an answer to his obsessing query.

And there she was, at the far end of the room, lying on a black meridian, one glass filled with crimson liquid hanging at her hand which was resting on the armrest lazily.

Clenching his fists in determination, he walked towards the most eccentric member of this renowned institution.

"Eve," he said firmly, not tearing his gaze off the purple figure on the sofa, "can I have a word?"

As he spoke, the velvet clad student raised a hand in the air, and then let it sprawl on her forehead in a sharp noise. He arched an eyebrow as he noticed the girl's golden hair were splayed on the back of the meridian, so long that they touched the ground on the other side.

"Ah, permission..." She sighed heavily, her amber eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Always permission." Suddenly, she turned her head to him, peering up at him from her spot. "When you have poise and grace, you do not need permission." She added in an airy tone.

"It's not about poise and grace." He frowned at her, never dropping his guard of ice and marble. "It's about politeness. Something you seem to be terribly lacking."

"Some people lack what others do not. That is how the world is made, we cannot do anything about it, I am afraid." She sat up, rotating on her behind, leaning against the backrest.

"I guess so." R replied hesitantly, not so sure about what he had just agreed, but not willing to waste any more time. "I have a question for you."

This time, a broad smile stretched the young woman's dark red lips as she folded her hands on her lap. "And I have much more than one answer for you."

"Well, then enlighten me." He raised a hand to his chin. "I want to know. Why didn't you give Q a nickname that is starting with his letter, whereas you did for all the other children?"

In response, her brown eyes gleamed and she put her head down, dipping her lips into her matching beverage. After she had took a very small sip, her fiery eyes locked with his, as if defying him.

"I loathe boredom above anything else." She said, her voice as light, as fleeting as ever. "I flee predictability. Why do something anticipated, when you can do something utterly unexpected? Hm?" She tilted her head to the side quizzically.

"I suppose so." R retorted coldly, feeling his patience slowly growing thin. "But that doesn't answer my question. You said you had many answers for me, so tell me. Why did you call him _Matt_? That doesn't refer to any of his abilities nor quirks."

"We cannot always reduce someone to the idiosyncrasies they develop to express their individuality, nor to the prowesses they exhibit to hide the hole in their soul."

At hearing those words, R could do nothing but stare at the violet-dressed teenager blankly, unable to move when he saw her standing up and circling him, gold cascade of hair floating in her wake.

"Do not attach too much importance to names, R." The phantom voice said in his back, and he could do nothing but listen to it. "Names do not attach much importance to us, after all." Then, her voice was but a bare whisper, and he was sure he was the only one able to hear it.

"Good evening, R." Eve saluted him above her shoulder. Finally, he was able to whirl on his heels to look at the eerie figure as it crossed the door step. Unconsciously, he headed towards the exit, following the older pupil.

As if she had felt his presence behind her, E stopped in her tracks in the middle of the corridor. Without turning around, she spoke, and her fickle, mild voice as well as her words caused his blood to freeze in his veins.

"In a few years, you will fall in love with a letter, behind which hides a person with no name." She paused, and he could see her flashy red bonnet going down as she lowered her head.

"When you see L tonight, tell him that the dolphin, even though able to dive in apnea for hours, cannot survive underwater."

And E, alias Eve, vanished into the depth of the deserted hallway, leaving R with nothing but more questions and less answers.

* * *

After a quick, yet nourishing dinner with a silent Q and a rather dubious interruption of a small blonde curled-haired boy wearing huge round glasses and a large white laboratory coat who offered him some pills that were supposed to give him a perfectly regular sleeping schedule, R headed towards the library.

He refused the pills, of course, despite Q's assurance that this thirteen-year-old boy had nothing to do with a drug dealer, but was simply gifted in the area of medicine, creating very healthy and efficient treatments.

 _Whatever._ He told himself, huffing haughtily as he reached the empty dark room decorated with endless ebony wood bookshelves and thin, aligned tables.

As he had foreseen, he soon spotted a crouched figure sitting at the farthest end of the library, a white and blue silhouette glowing in the moonlight. Restraining a satisfied smile, he led towards the most retired area of the room and took a seat on the right side of the quiet being.

L did not even look up from the tiny red-covered book he seemed to be reading thoroughly, hands raised in the air at his eye level, fingers grasping the corners of the paper, as if afraid he would catch a disease if he held it in a normal fashion.

"L."

"Yes?" The cool, mechanical voice answered without delay, though its owner did not spare him a glance.

"E asked me to tell you something when I see you tonight."

"Oh, really." The older student inquired rhetorically. "And how did she know you would see me tonight?"

"I'm pretty sure she didn't." R snorted mirthlessly. "She knew I would grow curious when hearing what she had to say, and that I would go and tell you anyway." His hazel eyes met onyx orbs above the book L had lowered by one inch. "She didn't guess anything. She simply manipulated me into meeting you tonight. Say something mysterious, compelling the person to wonder and go to the person designated beforehand..." He suppressed a chuckle as he leant down on the mellow velvet chair back. "A very classic trick."

At those words, L disregarded the book on the table in a deadly sluggishness, and R swore he saw a ghost of a smirk distorting the bloodless lips.

"I must say I am impressed, R." He stated in a rich, deep voice. "E is known to be the most talented student of Wammy's in the area of psychology. Watari himself even goes as far as to call her ' _the world's greatest psychologist'_ , and yet you managed to guess her intentions in less than seven hours. Quite a feat, indeed."

L's pupiless eyes fell on a white cup filled with a brown liquid which lay on the table and that R had not noticed yet. It gave off a soothing odor of bergamot. The dark-haired man stirred his beverage with slow, regular motions of his silver spoon.

"And still..." The cleverest student continued, his tone enticingly deadpan. "Here you are, sitting with me in this deserted library at eleven o'clock in the evening. Which leads me to ask," His obsidian eyes reflected the warm brown of his tea when his eyes flickered to R, "why did you comply if you had seen through her true intentions?"

"I was merely curious." R answered, pursing his lips in irritation as he fixed his gaze on L's cup. "I want to know what she meant by the words she told me to repeat to you."

L sipped on his tea noisily. "And what were those words?"

" _The dolphin, even though able to dive in apnea for hours, cannot survive underwater._ "

The white-dressed boy put his cup down on the wooden table which emitted a sharp _clang_ noise.

"I see."

"Do you know what she meant?" R furrowed his eyebrows as he searched for L's eyes, which were focused on the porcelain container.

"Yes..." L trailed off quietly, still not meeting his gaze. "And no."

R arched a quizzical eyebrow at the elder pupil. "What do you mean? It's whether yes or no."

"Well, you see, E's words are not meant to be taken all that literally." He tilted his head to the side as he rested his spoon in his cup. "As she uses to say herself, E has some kind of a motto which could be resumed as—"

" _Why do something anticipated, when you can do something utterly unexpected._ " R cut him off sharply. "Yes, I am aware."

L stopped his fidgeting with his cutlery and raised his head to look at R intently. "Indeed. You must have understood so far that E is not the kind of person who ever speaks clearly. Everything she says, including her greetings and farewells, is a mystery, a riddle that yearns to be solved."

"And... did you solve the one I just told you?"

Silence. Bottomless eyes pierced through R as the two boys seemed to be bound to stare at each other. And then, the emotionless voice echoed in the darkness of the library.

"Of course I did."

"Alright, then." R said lightly as he propped himself up, ready to turn his back on L.

"You are not asking me what the solution is?" The older asked dully, but R was sure he could decipher a tiny hint of wonder in his baritone voice.

The chestnut-haired boy sneered, glancing back at L above his shoulder. "Would you tell me if I asked you?"

The dark-haired male marked a pause, his pallid hands anchored on his knees.

"Probably not."

"I guessed so." R smiled bitterly as he walked away between the rows of tables and shelves, leaving a silent L behind. "Now, if you'll excuse me... I have to wake up early tomorrow. Goodnight, L."

The huge ebony wood doors of the library creaked shut and everything went pitch black when a morose whisper filled the room.

"Goodnight, R."

* * *

The next morning, R was sitting neatly at his assigned table in his usual beige pants and black jumper, resting his chin on his palm. On his left was Q, his goggled eyes focused on his console, his lips moving in silent murmurs directed at no one but himself.

Ranks forward was the famous crouched figure of the oldest and cleverest student of all, L. R was so entranced in his examination of L's white back that he did not hear when a tall, voluptuous blonde woman entered the room and put her suitcase down on the teacher's table.

"Good morning, everyone." The smooth voice said pleasantly.

R finally raised his head to glance at the new comer. The woman seemed to be on her early twenties, she had straight, thick shoulder-lenghed blonde hair, a pair of curved dark sun glasses on her nose, and a black cigarette holder in her right hand. She disregarded her trench coat on the chair back and sat on the edge of the desk.

Suddenly, her eyes fell on Q. "Hello, Q." Her red lips stretched into a grin.

Following her gaze, R turned his head to his neighbor. At his greatest surprise, Matt was no longer looking at his console, instead he was staring at the young teacher with reverent, intrigued eyes. R suppressed the urge to widen his eyes in awe, for he never saw Q paying attention to any of the teachers before, except for that special computer science teacher. This was beyond astounding.

"Hello, Wedy." Matt answered blankly, though his eyes betrayed his obvious interest.

The complicity between that odd hazel-haired student and the young teacher was nothing but overwhelming. Yet, the class unfolded as any other computing class. All the students were focused on their computer screens, and Wedy was walking between the ranks, checking on their progress regularly.

The daily subject was breaking into Manchester's City Hall server in order to find the town hall's precise amount of funds and investments, which earned the bold teacher a slight huff coming from the boy sitting behind R.  
Without delay, the blonde spared a glance at the black-dressed pupil behind him, throwing a joyful, "don't worry, T. I've got the mayor's authorization for this experiment. You're not going to break any law today." That seemed to ease the rightful child.

After four minutes of hard work, Q rose from his chair.

"Miss, I'm done."

The blonde woman whirled on her heels, offering her most radiant smile to the six-year-old child. "Very well, Q. Please, come here and show the class what you've found."

The kid in striped sweater moved to the front of the class, grabbed the piece of chalk Wedy was giving him and started scribbling on the black chessboard.

"If we use that shortcut, we manage to enter the server..." Matt was explaining his course of actions, step by step, but it seems the only people able to understand his reasoning was himself and Weby, "...then, it's quite simple, all we have to do is create an algorithm that will list all the possible combinations for the password..." All the children looked completely baffled, and R was slowly drifting out of attention.

"...and there it is." Matt finished in a firm voice as he turned around to face his fellows.

"We can see that the City hall of Manchester possessed a capital equal to nine hundred thousand and fifty seven pounds, and has contributed to the local football team at the amount of ten thousand, and also to an association for the defense of the forest grounds and natural environment at the amount of two thousand and sixty pounds."

Wedy's scarlet lips distorted into a satisfied smirk as she reveled in the dumfounded expression of the majority of the students.

"Congratulations, Q." She puffed on her cigarette, blowing out the smoke which leaked in the whole room, still smiling. "The class is over. Goodbye everyone, see you on Thursday."

And the blonde woman exited the white classroom without another word. R watched Q as he headed back to his seat at his left in silence, ignoring all the curious looks he was subjected to.

 _At first, I was wondering why that kid was admitted into the House, but now there's no room left for question._

He observed the younger child as he sat down and picked up his red console, resuming his video game as if he did not just break into one of the most protected networks of the country.

 _Yes... He is a genius._

* * *

One day, as the sun started to set, reflecting its marvelous shades of orange and rose on the english country, R decided to wander in the only part of the House he didn't know.

At the far end of a dark corridor opposite to the one harboring the dormitories stood an iron door which seemed to lead to nowhere. That was for that very reason R had decided to discover what hid behind that mysterious door.

When he finally pulled on the doorknob, he was faced with a steep, narrow metal staircase. The young student climbed silently without any trace of hesitation in his firm steps. Above his head, a large opening let enter warm yellow and pink rays which illuminated the dark stairs, allowing R to find his path rather easily. As he put his feet on the very last step, his breath was caught in his throat.

He was on the rooftop of the Wammy's House, under a small kiosk which seemed to have been dropped here by chance. In front of him stretched the forest, its tall, majestic trees gleaming in the marriage of the purple and orange setting sunlight. But that was not what surprised him most.

In the middle of the kiosk, leaning on the barricade was a well-known white and blue figure, contrasting in its paleness with the brilliant rays of the dying sun.

"Hello, R." L greeted him, his voice void of any emotion. "I see you have found my hiding place sooner than I had expected."

Choosing not to answer, R simply walked forward and settled on the barricade at the elder's right side. His brown eyes fell on the shining forest.

"You come here often." He declared steadily, for it was not a question. "Does anyone else know this place, except for you and now myself?" He asked, not bothering to look at the oldest pupil.

"No. I was the only one to have discovered that very special place... until you, that is."

"Does my presence disturb you?"

R sneaked a peek at the black-haired man who tilted his head upwards, as if willing to address the sky.

"Not at all."

He nodded though he was perfectly aware the older student was not sparing him a glance.

After a moment of peaceful, soothing silence, R spoke again, his voice plain and neutral.

"Why didn't Eve give you a nickname like she did for the other pupils?"

L, his face still turned towards the glowering sky, closed his eyes.

"Do you know why E gave nicknames to all the Wammy's kids?" He answered by a question of his own.

"I guess it's supposed to replace the names we don't have. So it would be easier to identify, to call one another."

Finally, L put his head down, staring at the bleak forest which was slowly engulfed by thin layers of fog.

"That is only the practical reason. I expected nothing less of someone as pragmatic as yourself, though. But that's not the only reason."

R quirked an eyebrow at this, waiting for him to continue, which he did spontaneously.

"Deprive someone of their name results in dehumanizing them." L stated emotionlessly. "Even cats and dogs have names. Whereas we, pupils of the Wammy's House, only inherit of _one_... _single_... letter." He cut his sentence word by word as he raised his index finger in the air as if to illustrate his allegations. "Like mere laboratory rats, like mere _objects_."

R lowered his gaze to the empty courtyard below, nodding in understanding. "I see. So if Eve gives everyone a nickname, it's barely to remember us that we're real persons, with real emotions. To sum up, those fake names are the last shred of our humanity. To have a name is to be human." He paused, straightening back as he turned fully towards the white silhouette that glowed in the dying sunlight.

"But wait. You don't have a nickname. Why?" He inquired, genuinely confused. Then, frowning even more deeply, "Does it mean—"

"Yes." L replied, his voice empty and blank. "You understood pretty well, R." Dark hair soared slightly in the freezing wind as the older student raised his head to look at R. Onyx orbs bore into R's heart with a strength it never held before, burning and eating at his mind.

"I have no nickname because E considers that I am no human."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Here is chapter 3. I introduced Matt and some other students, I hope you liked it.

 **Some of the Wammy's kids called by a letter in this fiction are real Death Note characters. Will you be able to find and identify them?  
** (Hint: including L, Light, Matt, Mello and Near, there are 11 of them).  
 **You have to find the ones whose true name was not revealed, basing on their letter (thus L, R, Q, N and M don't count).**  
 **PM me if you have the answer. There'll be a little reward for the winner who finds at least one of them!**

P.S. I've read somewhere that Matt's letter was actually Q, so I did not extrapolate on this.

Anyway, thank you for reading!

 **Please let me know what you think of this story and leave a review!**

I have a lot of work to do for college at the moment, so I may not be able to update once a week, but once in two weeks should be possible. Thank you for your patience.

Bye bye, humans!

 _ **C.**_


	4. Z

**To LottieRaven:** You are right. I will not give up on trying. I will try my best to publish and I shall see, maybe luck will be on my side one day?  
I am very proud to have managed to make you like that story even more than the previous one, which revolved around Mello and Near.  
I am also glad that you like the character of E, and I find it very _amusing —_ I insist on that word _—_ that she reminds you of Elena. I admit I like to create and write that character very much!  
About E wanting to call Matt "Queer" at first, it was actually a joke! That is what Matt tells Light in the end. But I confess the joke pleased me to no end!  
Like always, your theories are very interesting and I find your interpretation of E's dolphin metaphor very clever and deep. As you asked, I will not say anything else so you can see what is the true significance when the times comes.  
I must say I am very flattered that you think I would do a great job of a Black Butler and Death Note crossover, though I admit I did not think about it before... But why not! I will think about it, that could be a great concept. And if you read good stories of that kind, please share them, I am curious to read them.  
Until then, I plan on writing a Black Butler fanfiction. To be honest, I have already started writing chapter 1 (check my profile for more informations). But if possible, I would like to advance a bit on the Letters before publishing another story. So I shall see when it'll be more appropriate to introduce my new fanfiction.  
Really you do not need to thank me for anything because I really find our exchanges very exciting, so I can assure you that you don't bother me at all. It's quite the contrary actually, I like it very much. It will be a pleasure to keep discussing with you if you are still willing.  
Again, I thank you for your support and I am eager to know your opinion about this new chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Z**

"Good morning, R." A well-known emotionless voice called him from the opposite of the table.

When R raised his head, he noticed he had sat right in front of L in the cafeteria for the first time since his arrival at Wammy's, two years ago.

"Hello, L." He replied neutrally as he settled down to drink his milk.

Indeed, it was the very first time he had to walk to the farthest wooden table in order to eat his breakfast in peace, and he couldn't see the white figure that did not stand out from the blank wall behind. One sneak peek at the older student's plate was enough to state the obvious. L was, like usual, busy planting his fork into his equally usual sugary strawberry cheesecake, while stirring his spoon in a cup full of black tea.

Knowing L was one of the rarest Wammy's pupils to enjoy silence, R did not bother to start a conversation, preferring to dive into his bowl of cereals. But after a rather long moment filled with nothing but chewing and crunching noises, R was sure he had deciphered an infuriating, sizzling noise, which caused him to lift his head slowly.

What he witnessed would have been enough to provoke anyone else a heart attack in the instant, but he was not anyone. Thus, as collected and steady as ever, he arched an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, and spoke ever so quietly.

"L," He began carefully, his brown eyes never leaving the elder, "there's a snake around your neck."

Indeed, a slim yet long black, yellow and red snake was gently wrapping around L's shoulders, circling his neck discretely, apparently unnoticed by everyone in the cafeteria except for R. When any other person would have been lost in shrills of panic and calls for help in this situation, L merely looked down, coming face to face with the yellow-black head.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, R." He said, his voice never so empty. Then, at R's greatest surprise, L banged the wooden table with his fist. "Z. Please come out and retrieve your Coral serpent."

As if he had just cast a curse successfully, swift motions underneath caused the table to tremble and soon enough, a lean figure crept out from under the table. It was a girl, from eleven to twelve years old. She had dark brown hair gathered in a messy braid which fell on her breast covered with a green leather dress and a chestnut brown fur coat, at her feet stood beige doeskin high boots which almost reached her hips.

Without further ado, the girl smiled gleefully, and R widened his eyes as he spotted sharp, fine teeth in her mouth which were everything but human. She lunged forward and produced an eardrum-piercing hissing noise. In the blink of an eye, the snake wheezed in return, disentangled itself from L's pale neck and flew towards the bestial girl, curling around her tanned neck.

With that, the brown-haired girl turned towards the two silent boys and beamed at them. "Sorry for the inconvenience," she almost chanted, sounding everything but sorry. And putting her head down, allowing the snake to rub against her cheek, she added, "But you know Lady Bird, she likes L very much. And I can't deprive her of that joy, can I?"

"Of course not." L answered calmly, not sparing a glance at the strange girl, rather dipping his lips into his hot beverage. "But perhaps you could watch over her more often so that Lady Bird will not bother any other student."

"But then..." She whined painfully, her green-yellowish eyes fixed on her snake. "Where would be the fun?"

"Everything does not always revolve around fun, Z. When you will understand that, perhaps we will be able to eat breakfast in peace, without the interference of a snake, an iguana, or any other wild animal that belongs to the jungle, and not to a school for gifted children."

The flaming green eyes fell upon the eldest student, throwing lightning blots at the black-haired man.

"Uh!" She sneered disdainfully. "Of course someone like you would never understand what fun is like." She turned towards R, her lips twisting upwards. "Hi, R. I don't know if you heard about me yet. I'm Z, but you can call me _Zadila_." Reporting her glaring eyes to the dark-haired man in front of him, she spat. "Perhaps you could teach that robot how to have some _fun_ , for a change."

She turned on her heels, her braid flying over her shoulder, landing on her fur-covered back as she walked to the nearest table where a very famous purple-wearing girl sat, a balloon glass with crimson liquid between her hands.

Frowning, R followed the animal-like girl with sceptic eyes as she sat in front of the eldest female student.

"E." He murmured as if for himself. "So Zadila is a friend of Eve."

"Not exactly." Came L's indifferent answer. "Ever since Z entered the Wammy's House, E imposed herself as her protector." As R was about to open his mouth to retort, L cut him off with a rather eerie tone. "Why did E take Z under her wing, you may ask?" The older pupil put his head up, his onyx eyes full of wonder and mystery meeting R's chestnut ones. "No one knows."

"A sister-like relationship, I guess." R barely shrugged his shoulders, disregarding the matter as he focused back on his eggs.

"Call it as you wish, but let me give you an advice, R." L stated, his voice suddenly low and cold. "Never pester Z, for if you do..." He paused, and the black pools that served as his eyes seemed to pierce right through R.

"Her snake pet will appear as a merciful treat compared to her mentor."

* * *

This very morning, the Wammy's kids started with Biology class. That was not R's best interest but he would agree on the fact that it was indeed a rather interesting subject. However, he was far less passionate about it than a certain frizzy-haired black-skinned boy or a sadly famous braided-haired girl with a soft spot for snakes.

It was well-known amongst the students that Z and C, also called _Zadila_ and _Coal_ , were fighting for the top place in Biology, to the grey-haired male teacher's greatest amusement, always yearning for the perfection of the one hundred percent grade, while the other usual top students — namely L, R, N, M — did not even bother to fight for the top grade, content with their satisfactory ninety-five percent grade.

This day, their task was particularly tedious. The teacher, never leaving his pleased smile, ordered them to try and find out the rat's organs functioning. For that, they had all been given a dead rat corpse to study and dissect as they saw fit. Once his experience done, R attended to draw graphics and schemas, taking notes and synthesizing what he had learnt thoroughly, when a familiar nasty wheezing noise caused him to grit his teeth. When he looked up, he froze.

A lean, glossy blue sky serpent was swirling around his pen, around his hand and then around his forearm...

He simply stood there, watching the snake circling his arm, embracing his body almost adoringly, lovingly as the beast continued to sizzle quietly. Suddenly, he was pulled out of his trance by a void, baritone voice.

"R." Turning his head to the left, R could see a white-dressed man walking towards his desk deadly slowly, his hands dug into his pockets. "There is a snake around your arm."

R did his best not to glare daggers at the older pupil, and instead simply smiled tensely. "Yes, I'm aware, L. About that, could you call Zadila?"

In response, L merely tilted his head to the side as he raised a hand, pressing his thumb to his mouth. "That is strange." He mused absently, gnawing on his fingernail, showing no sign he had heard R at all. "Usually, this snake is quite bashful. It never searched for human contact before, with the exception of his mistress' of course."

"Yeah, well," his voice edgy, barely hiding his irritation, "it must have changed its mind. Now could you _please_ call Zadila so she can get her pet back?" He asked sharply.

Eventually, that caused L to come back to earth as his dark eyes met R's fiery brown. He nodded almost solemnly as he spoke calmly. "Of course."

Without another word, he stepped past R's desk towards the back of the classroom. A few seconds later, a piercing whistling noise made his jaw cringe and he did not need to look to guess who was approaching him. Surely enough, Zadila came to his sight, grinning like a cheshire cat while hissing loudly. She stretched her hand towards R, and as fast as lightning, the blue snake unfolded itself from his arm and flew at his mistress, landing on her left shoulder.

The mistress of the snake then beamed at him in delight, her green eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hi, R." She said cheerfully, before she turned her head slightly just so she can look at her serpent in the eyes. Hisses and wheezing were exchanged under R's bewildered eyes, before she spoke again, her voice light and playful. "Apparently, Baby Blue has beaten his fear of humans and has taken a liking to you."

The snake hissed lowly as if in approval, and R could not help but lower his gaze to the gracious yet no less intimidating serpent which was staring back at him with its round black orbs.

"Well, I'm glad to know," R began sternly, "but from now on, please tell your pet to refrain from jumping at me."

Zadila furrowed her brown eyebrows, then looked down at her snake friend with disappointment. "But, poor Baby Blue... he was only having fun!"

"It would seem R does not share the same view of fun as you." Came a cold voice from R's back, which caused the latter to turn on his heels. He almost startled as he found himself face to face with L, whose onyx eyes were boring into him. "I already told you to watch over your pets, Z," he went on, though his eyes never averted R's. "And I am sure you wouldn't want me to repeat myself."

Zadila puffed heavily and she turned her back on the two boys, heading towards the blackboard at the front of the room, the snake floating on her shoulder, hovering near her cheek.

"Why does she have snakes?" R inquired haughtily, crossing his arms around his chest as he arched an eyebrow at L. "Pets aren't allowed at Wammy's as far as I know."

"Indeed, they are not." The black-haired replied blankly. "However, Watari made an exception for Z. Every Wammy's child has their quirks and whims. And she needs the presence of animals as much as M needs his chocolate, or E her red wine."

R repressed himself from widening his eyes. He did not know what should shock him most: that children were allowed to wander around the school with serpents around their neck, that the sombre child called M was in fact addicted to chocolate, or that a seventeen-year-old girl was drinking wine night and day without no one having a say in it.

"And you?" He found himself asking instead, a discrete smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What do you need, L?"

"Me?" L blinked at him as he pointed a skinny finger at himself. "Well, my body needs sugar." He raised his eyes to the ceiling, his index finger resting on his lower lip in a very thoughtful yet childlike fashion. "My soul, however..."

He trailed off, and R was dying to hear what he had to say, but they were both interrupted by the teacher's thrilled voice.

"Well, Z, I'm impressed!" The blouse-wearing man exclaimed, joining his hands in front of his mouth in awe. "You managed to figure out every single rat organs' location, features and function, and that..." He turned around and rose on his tiptoes, eyeing the far end of the room, and every child mimicked him.

"...without even dissecting the rat!" He almost squealed, whereas several kids at the front of the room gasped.

R and L exchanged an intense gaze before turning their eyes towards the current centre of attention. This time, R could not prevent himself from widening his eyes.

There, before the black board which wore a precise, sophisticated schema, stood Zadila whose lips were distorted into a broad smile. In her hand stood a large white rat with shrilling red eyes. All of a sudden, her smile vanished, leaving only a wry grin as she raised her hand to her face.

"No need to kill animals to understand them..." She said, her voice never so gentle, so caring. "All we need to do is listen."

And, at the general horror, she pressed her lips to the top of the rat's head. In the blink of an eye, his little head fell forward, and the small beast passed out, lying in her hand. Under the disbelieving eyes of the twenty-five other students and the professor, Zadila walked towards her desk in silence, her braid falling on her back.

R followed her with incredulous eyes in time to see her tanned hand open the cage and drop the sleeping animal inside as tenderly as a mother biding her children good night. Without any kind of explanation, Z sat at her desk and whistled quietly. Immediately, two long serpents appeared, one on each side of her face, circling her neck with their tails, hissing fiercely. The thirteen-year-old girl lifted her head, showing two extinguished green eyes that no longer shone maliciously, but rather gleamed with gravity and melancholy.

An awkward cough broke the unbearable silence, and all the students returned their attention on the teacher who dared an apologetic smile.

"Very well, kids. You did well today. The class is over. See you tomorrow." He averted his clear blue eyes to the floor and, clearing his throat, he exited the room.

R was left staring at the blackboard dumbly, deciphering all the arrows, lines and circles that represented the rat's brain, muscles, veins, arteries, as well as its respiratory, digestive and reproductive systems.

"How..." He whispered for himself. "How is that possible?"

"Until now, you were probably wondering why Z had been admitted into Wammy's, what was her talent, her gift..." R was interrupted in his reverie by L's cool voice, reminding him that the elder was still standing near him. "Well, here is your answer." L motioned towards the board with a tilt of his chin.

"She is said to be able to understand animal language."

"No one can do that." R retorted back bluntly.

"That was exactly my point of view..." L walked around R's desk without sparing the younger one single glance. "Until I met Z."

"Living at the Wammy's House has at least that advantage," L murmured mysteriously, so close to R that his breath tickled the chestnut-haired boy's cheek. "Everything you thought impossible suddenly becomes possible."

Without any kind of goodbye, the eighteen-year-old boy disappeared from his sight, leaving nothing but an odd feeling of loss and incomprehension. One single thing appeared crystal clear in R's mind.

 _No matter how Z managed that, it doesn't change the fact that she actually did._

 _She is a genius._

 ** _No_** _._

 _We are **all** geniuses._

* * *

Keeping that conversation in mind, R spent the following months trying to find out the Wammy's pupils' skills. He wanted to understand why each child was admitted into this institution. He wanted to know what made all of those kids geniuses.

He wanted to see the impossible become possible.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could, he questioned the oldest students, he talked with the youngest. He used every useful information he was given. Looks, letter, nickname, favorite meals, favorite subject in class, strong points, weak points.

And indeed, over the two years he had spent at the Wammy's House, and by the time he reached the age of twelve years old, he had seen many things considered impossible become possible.

C was an expert in Biology.

Q excelled in the area of computers.

Z could communicate with animals.

E was the queen of psychology.

All these students could do the impossible when it came to the field of their competence.

But one question remained. The very question he wanted most answered. That was the reason why he had climbed all the steps of the dark narrow staircase leading to the rooftop of the House. And like he had guessed, the familiar white and blue figure stood there, staring down at the sunset which bathed the forest and fields in its magical pink and gold rays.

For one second, he remained frozen in place, looking at L's back, reveling in the aura that emerged from the dark-haired man. The bright orange and purple light reflecting on his blank tee-shirt, making his skin almost glow, contrasting with the abyss of his disheveled hair, all of that contributing to give him the appearance of an angel. A dark angel.

A beautiful, dangerous dark angel.

Eventually, he stepped forward and came to lean against the railing at L's right side.

"L." He began, his tone firm and determined.

"Yes, R." L's voice almost caused him to startle, for it had never been so soft, so soothing.

"Every child has a gift that makes him special." He stated plainly, his gaze losing itself in the darkness that started to paint the horizon in shades of yellow and blue. Then, he turned his head to the elder. "What's your gift, L?"

Silence filled the air and the atmosphere around them seemed to thicken. But soon after, L's deep throaty voice reasoned in the dying sunlight and it was almost like the night fell with it.

"I do not know if that can be considered as a gift, but there is indeed one thing that surpasses everything else."

"And what's that thing?" R asked, quirking an eyebrow in genuine curiosity.

"Deduction. Reasoning. Logic." L listed the three words mechanically. "That is what I do. I solve cases." He added quietly, lowering his head, crossing his arms on the banister.

This time, R frowned frankly. "Why?"

"Justice." The older pupil replied right away, without a trace of hesitation. "I fight for Justice, that is why."

"If you wanna fight for Justice, why don't you simply study and apply the law, then?"

At those words, L finally raised his head, his onyx orbs gleaming in the night, mirroring the nascent moonlight as they locked with R's amber eyes.

"Study law? Assure law enforcement?" The white-dressed man repeated, his empty eyes widening in fake astonishment. "But where would be the fun, then?" He said, and R swore he saw the ghost of a smirk dancing on L's bloodless lips.

The young student couldn't help but smile in return, suppressing a chuckle. "It seems you know what fun is, after all."

"Everyone has a different vision of fun."

"I think I agree with yours." R wondered aloud as he bent forward, resting his arms on the balustrade, his elbow brushing against L's. "Applying the law might be laudable and necessary, but it doesn't provide any challenge. It's only about order and rigor. Solving cases on the other hand is exciting. It's about pushing the limits, it's about instincts..." He paused, sneaking a peek at his companion who was staring back at him in silent, patient fascination.

"People might think it's about reason, but it's not." He finished, his voice hushed. "It's about passion."

A rustling of fabric indicated that L had pulled back from the railing and straightened. "I do not know about passion," he said emotionlessly, and R could hear his voice fade more and more as he spoke.

R whirled around in time to see L reach the metal door opening on the stairs. He had moved so fast, too fast... Just before it closed on the white figure, the empty voice echoed in the darkness and all around him.

"I am merely a detective."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked that chapter.

 **Important news:** **One hidden character** — a Death Note universe character which identity has not been revealed in the story yet — **has been found** (I will not say which one it is, of course, for that would be too easy). **Only** **five more to find.**

I apologize for the late update, I have been quite busy lately with college business. Now it will be a bit more relaxed until my exams in May.

 **Please tell me what you think about the story and leave a review, that would be really helpful!**

 **P.S. My Black Butler fanfiction project is a bit more precise. Please check my profile for further information.**

Bye bye, humans!

 _ **C.**_


	5. D

**To LM273:** I'm glad you liked the previous chapter and the character of Z, which I liked to write very much. Indeed, I could have called her Zoo, but... E decided otherwise!  
I know it must have been very frustrating when L did not finish his sentence but... yes, I'm cruel like that! Although, the end you proposed is quite accurate. Of course, R will understand that one day.  
Your words about L's lack of emotions are very true. Indeed, he doesn't know how to feel emotions. And if you tell me he's even more detached in this fanfiction, then I consider myself proud because I thought it would be impossible to portray him even more detached than in the anime xD  
I must say you made me laugh very much with that hypothetic scene of yours, L kissing R on the rooftop, and I admit I like the idea. So I'll ask you: is it your request (remember, your reward)? Because I could definitely write that scene.  
Finally, I must thank you for all your compliments, you have no idea how your words please me. I am very happy that the stories I write make you feel and think so many things, because really, as a writer, this is my supreme goal. It really is an achievement. And I hope I will continue to meet your expectations.

 **To LottieRaven:** I am very glad that you mentioned Z's character because indeed, I intended to make a Black Butler reference here, so I'm very happy you caught it. **  
**Well, my friend, this is a Death Note fanfiction which sets in the Wammy's House, so if there's a Mello... of course there is a Near ;)  
Indeed, you noticed it, even though R is still young, he is already drawn towards L, and vice versa. That was what I wanted to show in those first chapters, until it becomes more... serious, let's say.  
Once again, I'll repeat myself: your reviews are always helpful, because I like to know what the readers — and especially you — think of my writing. So thank you for always sharing your opinion, it really is important for me, and I hope you'll continue to do so.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: D**

R had to wait until his fourth year at Wammy's to finally get what the other students possessed rightfully.

A nickname.

However, it took its sweet time to reach his ears and it came to him in the most unexpected way, to say the least.

Ever since he discovered L's hiding place in the kiosk, on the roof of the institution building, he met the older pupil up there quite often, exchanging ideas, arguments, and debates in the most mature and thoughtful way. And the truth was, he would lie of he were to say that he did not like those encounters.

But during his fourth year, L showed him something unknown, something he would never have guessed, the detective had not been keen enough to share this information with him.

In the dark corridor on the third and last floor of the House, the very one which led to the steel staircase climbing to the rooftop, was a door. A door which opened to no ordinary room, for it opened on a terrace. One day, instead of their usual talk in the kiosk, L introduced him to this secret. And he was dumbfounded to find the terrace already occupied.

An easel stood in the middle of the white stone deck, which was facing the glowing setting sun, spreading its rose and golden rays all around them. In front of the easel was a tall red-haired boy, his hair so long that they fell down his back, gathered in a low ponytail by a red satin ribbon. At R's greatest surprise, the figure was wearing a flashy pink suit vest and orange trousers, with a thin pink stripe matching the jacket.

R arched a skeptic eyebrow. "Who is it?"

"This is D." L responded in a deadpan tone. "As you can see, his talent is painting."

"I never noticed him in class." R stated as he leant against the doorframe, furrowing his eyebrows. "Yet, his clothes aren't really what we might refer as neutral. Strange," he mused, raising a hand to his chin pensively. "What is he doing here?"

"Painting, it would seem."

R shot an unfazed gaze at his companion who stood next to him, hunched, hands dug into his pockets. "Yeah, I noticed. I mean, why is he painting here and now?"

"He comes here to paint everyday during sunset, no matter the time or the weather." The detective answered, his voice deep, a mere whisper in the evening breeze. "He is said to be infaillible in determining the exact time of the sundown. At seventeen years of age, he never failed to attend one. I suppose that is the reason of his nickname."

R turned his head towards the dark-haired male, his curiosity now piqued. "What's his nickname?"

"Oh, I am sure you can figure that out for yourself, R." L taunted, one hand reaching to his mouth to gnaw on his thumbnail, a phantom smile gracing his pale lips.

"Hm..." R hummed, returning his gaze to the far off colorful shape that melted into the warm sunlight as he crossed his arms on his chest. "He is fond of painting, but that doesn't help much. He always watches the twilight, his letter is D... Well, that leaves us with—" He paused abruptly, glancing at the white-dressed man, chestnut eyes gleaming in understanding. " _Dusk_."

"Very good, R." L nodded in acknowledgment, his nail finally leaving his mouth. "I expected nothing less from you. He is indeed called Dusk. D is the third eldest children of this House. Despite his eerie looks, he is also considered as the most beautiful student, as well-sculpted as a Greek statue. Now that you are here, we can safely assume he is the loneliest of us, too."

R stiffened slightly at those words, and he frowned at L, waiting for him to elaborate. At his greatest disappointment, he did not.

"No one ever heard him talk nor look at anyone, making the Headmaster wonder about a possible muteness." A fine black brow quirked elegantly on an alabaster forehead. "Though I admit I am not so fond of this assumption."

"Assuming he's mute only based on his silentness seems a hasty judgment to me." R reflected, his gaze lingering on the painter's straight back.

"I see we are on the same page, again." The nineteen-year-old boy muttered his assent softly. "I myself suspect he has already engaged in conversation with E."

As R was about to inquire what led him to draw such a conclusion when he was met with an unexpected sight. The long red-haired man had whirled around, pulling him out of his thoughts as he stared right at him, left hand holding a thin paintbrush raised in mid air while his right rested on his hip.

"Why did he..." He trailed off, never averting his gaze from the silhouette plunged in the falling darkness as it turned its back on the dying sunlight. "Did we disturb him?" He almost whispered.

"I highly doubt that. He cannot possibly hear us over the sound of the wind. But as to why he turned around, that I do not know."

It seemed as though the fact that D had interrupted himself in his act to face them was very unlikely, but it was not meant to remain the most incredible thing. Slowly, the tall painter's lips parted, allowing their corners to twitch upwards, creating the most otherworldly smile R had ever witnessed.

"What the..." He began in a hushed voice, eyes growing wide with astonishment.

He had no time to dwell on the matter, for the smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and the red-haired male rotated on his heels, turning back to his masterpiece which was still invisible to the two boys standing at the entry of the terrace, due to the strong backlight.

"That is odd." L mused aloud. Then, as if recovering from his uncertainty, he turned his back on the twilight rays as he spoke casually, "Come, R. We do not wish to prevent the painter from pouring his deepest, closest thoughts onto the canvas..."

Those words forced R to look away from the distant shape of the mysterious student who had resumed his previous activity. He shook his head and followed L's steps back into the sombre corridor.

"Yes, sure."

He did not know at the time, but this apparently short and irrelevant event had sealed his fate, thus bringing back one element of his humanity.

A name to be called by.

* * *

The day after that, R found himself merging into the dying sun rays, leaning on the kiosk railing, his elbow brushing agains't L. Again.

"I didn't know Wammy's counted some artists among its pupils," he reflected as his gaze lingered on the darkening firs of the forest below.

"There is not one single sort of genius," L stated blankly. "Genius does not revolve around solving equations or inventing new weapons of mass destruction." R saw the white-covered arms shifting slightly by the corner of his eye. "Many people understand the word genius as the scientific type of genius, but that is nothing but a very tiny part of all the different categories of genius that grace this planet."

R kept quiet, feeling that the detective was not finished, and he was soon proved right.

"Literature, biology, music, history, physics, astronomy, dance, mathematics, business, poetry, criminology, architecture, drawing, chemistry, law, medicine, psychiatry, archeology, sports, psychology, singing, painting..." The dark-haired man listed all those subjects without an ounce of hesitation, as if reciting by heart. "As many areas, and as many geniuses."

Taking in a long, appeased breathe, R lifted his eyes to the scarlet sky. "I didn't think about it, but you are right. Artists are probably the most beautiful kind of geniuses, somehow. Exorcizing the demons in their mind and creating masterpieces out of their pain, as if it were the simplest thing..." He trailed off, suddenly wary of something he did not realize before. "But all those fields you mentioned," he turned his head to his elder, searching for the hypnotizing black eyes, "were you thinking of one Wammy's kid for each of them?"

"For the most of them, yes." L answered emotionlessly. "After all, the Wammy's House is renowned for harbouring the greatest genius children in the world, is it not?" He drawled, his voice so flat it sounded more like an assertion than a question.

R furrowed his eyebrows at this revelation. Then, weary of staring at empty onyx orbs that were not even focused on him, he reported his gaze to the now turning dark blue forest. "So that means... there is a fashion genius here?" He inquired, his disbelief concealed with enough success.

"Of course."

"Who is it?"

"J."

R frowned even more as he remembered the slender brown-haired boy all clad in denim who had woken him up one night during his first year, accompanied with a very turbulent tattooed bald kid and a silent white-gown-dressed girl.

"And music?"

"X."

"Poetry?"

"O."

"Drawing?"

"I."

"Sports?"

"H."

"Architecture?"

There was a pause, and a low hum.

"Ah, that would be one of those areas that are not represented in this institution yet." The older pupil said blankly.

"We can't have all the kinds of geniuses gathered in the same house, though, can we?" The chestnut-haired teenager snorted.

"I suppose you do have a point, R." L retorted absently, his voice more and more quiet. "However, that is for the best."

"Why?" R arched a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"Contrary to what we may think, not all geniuses are the same." The disheveled-haired boy explained slowly, and his voice seemed to grow more muffled with each syllable he pronounced, as if telling cursed words.

"And contrary to us," he went on, imperturbable, "some minds need freedom to blossom."

R froze, and the glazing wind that spanned his silky hair did not help the sudden chill that rolled down his spine at this very moment.

"I apologize, R." The latter almost startled when he felt a cold touch ghosting over his shoulder. "But I must go now."

He did not have time to check on what he had sensed on his shoulder, as icy as a frozen desert, for the feeling disappeared immediately. And when he turned around, he only saw the iron door slamming shut, and a pallid hand disappearing in the darkness of the staircase.

That was then that he understood two things.

The odd contact that still haunted both his mind and body had been nothing but L's hand.

And now, L was gone.

It was the first time the detective seemed so eager to leave him behind on the rooftop. Sometimes, they would speak for hours without neither of them getting tired of the other, nor of the conversation. But this time, L left sooner than ever.

And thus, R was left alone to wonder.

 _Is L right?_

 _Are we prisoners here?_

* * *

"Hey, Ray." A husky voice caused the thirteen-year-old boy to raise his head from his arithmetics book only to be met with a highlighted blonde-haired teenager.

"Hello, Mello." R responded dryly, focusing back on his differential equation. "What brings you in the library at this late hour?" He asked with no real interest, when suddenly, something struck his attention.

He lifted his head, amber eyes meeting the younger's pale blue ones, and he frowned ever so slightly. "What did you just call me?"

It was Mello's turn to furrow his eyebrows. "I called you by your name." He drawled as he leant forward, resting one palm on the wooden table, his other hand placed on his thin hip.

"And what might that be?" R inquired, for once his curiosity truly piqued.

"Wait, you don't know your nickname?"

"No." He replied coldly.

"I thought you knew already," the blonde mumbled under his breath, obviously weary. "I heard Eve say your nickname this morning during breakfast. Since then, everyone has been calling you that." As his eyes locked with R's glowering ones, he went on quickly. " _Ray_. That's your nickname."

" _Ray_?" R repeated incredulously. "But, why? Did she tell any reason?"

"Nope." He glanced over his shoulder, and as R followed his gaze, he spotted Matt standing behind his friend, his goggled eyes fixed on a little black device that looked like a dictating machine.

"Said something about the sky and the sun. Wasn't making any real sense, though." Came Matt's languid voice, but the red-head did not bother to look up from his current centre of interest.

"Yeah, something like that." Mello nodded, before turning his attention back on R — or rather Ray. "Anyway, are you ready for tomorrow's maths test?"

"Of course I am ready." R suppressed the desire to scoff at the question. "But the question is: are you, Mello?" He said slyly, not offering the blonde one single glance.

"Hm... I think I am. I'll definitely beat Near this time."

"Sure you will." Ray did not swallow back his snort this time as he propped himself up, gathering his notes and textbook.

"Hey!" Mello pointed an accusing finger at the teen who clearly showed the intention to leave. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm sorry, Mello, but it's getting late and if you want to beat your eternal rival tomorrow morning, you should better go get some sleep." R stood up and walked along the wooden table. "For my part, I'll pay a little visit to a certain someone."

"What? Now?" Mello motioned to follow the older student, frowning deeply. "Who?"

Without looking back, R — now called Ray — passed the library doorstep as his soothing voice reached the blonde's ears.

"Eve."

* * *

Just like when he met the violet-wearing girl for the first time, Ray was certain to find E wandering around the corridors at night, her usual crimson liquid-filled glass in her hand. And he was not disappointed.

Restraining a satisfied smile, he gestured towards her, where she leant against the fifth room door, which was in fact _her_ room.

"Good evening, Eve."

The long-haired pupil did not even flinch, but instead dipped her lips in her balloon glass.

"Good evening, Ray."

 _Perfect_ , he thought. _She just gave me a reason to interrogate her._

"Where does my nickname come from?" He did not wait before putting his foot in his mouth.

"Ah..." She almost purred. "You seem to never run out of questions, now do you not, _Ray_?"

"Perhaps because you never answer the ones I ask you." He retorted, clenching his jaw in contained irritation. "Perhaps because you don't have the answers at all. But do you know that one, at least?"

"I know many things, Ray." Just as the latter was about to snap, the eighteen-year-old girl continued in her usual fleeting voice. "But you, on the other hand, must know this nickname is no fruit of my imagination."

Ray quirked a quizzical eyebrow, before he crossed his arms over his chest. "Ah, and where does it come from, then?"

"Where, where, where..." She repeated in a quiet, sing-song voice. "So material you are, Ray. Most of the nicknames, you see, come from nowhere."

"Stop this nonsense now, Eve." The younger took a deep, self-appeasing breath, rubbing his temples. "Even _your_ nickname comes from somewhere. Now tell me, why did you call me Ray?"

"Tut, tut, tut." The velvet-clad girl clicked her tongue several times in disapproval. "Hard-of-hearing, are we not, little boy?" As R shot her a menacing glare, she dodged it and went on. "I was not the one to assign you this nickname, Ray."

"Then who did?" If patience were tangible and combustible material, R's would now be reduced to ashes.

"One soul is never enough to uncover all the mysteries of another. Just like one plus one does not equal two. But that is, I am afraid, not my field of specialization." She sighed, twirling her glass feet gently in her pale fingers. "That name of yours is not the work of one single person, but _two_." Eve detached herself from the door, pivoting on her heels, one hand reaching out to the doorknob.

"The first one was illuminated by your light, its beams reflected in the darkness of their eyes... and the second one did nothing but transcribe those rays into the real world, thus giving birth to your name." In one quick pull, the door clicked open, revealing a black room partially brightened by weak moonlight.

"Once you go back into your room, do have a look at the night sky." The golden-haired girl said in an eerie tone, her voice a bare whisper as she took a step forward. "Do you know that the Moon and the Sun can coexist, even though one of them will always be tempted to hide behind thick curtains? Sometimes, however, should the two decide to appear side by side, the light would be all the more beautiful."

Eve's mysterious voice lingered in the air and vanished as the door slid shut, leaving a dumbfounded Ray on the doorframe. Soon enough, he shook his head and headed towards his dormitory.

As he entered his room, his gaze was automatically drawn to the windows. His eyes widened in awe at the sight that spread before him.

In the dark velvet sky lay a crescent, hesitant bluish moon, and, hundred light years away, at the limit of a shimmering horizon, rose a proud, yellow sun. And suddenly, all the enigmatic words he had just heard made perfect sense.

The Moon and the Sun stood side by side, and in the end, the signification of such a rare event did not matter so much.

It was simply, speechlessly, breathtakingly, beautiful.

* * *

At Ray's bewilderment, L was not present in Mathematics class the next morning and then did not take the test like the twenty-five other Wammy's children.

But he was most certainly not at the end of his surprises, for the day after that, the twelfth chair of the classroom — L's chair — was still empty.

And again, the day after that, his usual place in the cafeteria, or in the library, as well as his dormitory, were all empty.

When he questioned the most informed student in the House, the fourteen-year-old girl shook her short-dark-haired head negatively. "L has the habit of disappearing from time to time." She paused, before her grey-blue eyes locked with Ray's. "But now that you mention it, since you entered the Wammy's House four years ago, he did not leave like he used to." She frowned lightly, looking away, lost in thoughts. "Anyway, nobody knows what he does during his absences, but you would think it has something to do with his skills, right?"

The more he pondered the matter, the more he was forced to admit K was right. L's long absence must be linked to his deductive competence. While all the other students were busy doing some maths and economics, L must be busy solving cases.

When the night fell on this rather exhausting day, Ray was lying on his bed, his absent gaze fixed on the ceiling, sleepless. Suddenly, a well-known voice made itself heard in the corridor. He straightened up abruptly, listening intently.

There was that low, mechanical voice echoing on the other side of his door, and that other voice, calm, steady and old. Without any doubt, Watari was talking with L. When he was sure he did not hear a single noise anymore, R slid from his bed and left his room as silently as possible. He walked on his tip toes until the twelfth door and knocked with all the restraint and patience he could muster.

Creeping footsteps made their way to the door, which cracked open. Onyx eyes blinked at him, interrogating.

"L," he began, his voice hushed but no less firm, "where were you?"

The dark penetrating eyes widened slightly. "I am not accountable to you, _Ray_." The ebony-haired man replied emotionlessly, and R froze at hearing his nickname from those bloodless lips. "Now, is this the only reason why you grant me the honour of this nocturnal visit?"

Ray managed to pull himself off his torpor. "No, I'd like to talk to you, actually."

For a brief moment, they stood there motionless, black shining eyes boring into amber, until L stepped aside, tacitly inviting Ray inside. The latter obliged and entered the dark room whose only source of light was a blank computer screen on a desk in the back of the room.

Without another word, L headed towards the desk and crouched down on the wheel chair, swirling around to see the younger student who had taken seat at the edge of the bed.

"So, tell me what is it you wanted to speak about." Came L's neutral voice.

"My nickname," R began hesitantly, raising his head to glance at the dark form slouched in the chair, "you said it. I noticed you never called the other pupils by their nickname, you call them by their letter. So why use _my_ nickname?"

There was a pause, letting a chilling silence settle around them. The livid glow of the white screen made L's pale body glitter in the dark, and R found himself hypnotized by the sight, as if unable to look away from a ghost that would have just crossed the borders of the Other Side.

Then, a soft, grave voice sent shivers down his spine, the feeling aggravated by the fact he could not see the owner of that tantalizing voice.

"Perhaps because you are the only one to possess a nickname that suits you so perfectly."

The words Ray was about to pronounce died in his now dry throat, and he suppressed a gasp of shock. Quickly regaining his senses, he arched an eyebrow, raising a hand to scratch his chin.

"You are the one with the black eyes," he said matter-of-factly, as if for himself.

"Pardon?"

"Eve told me my nickname isn't her creation. It comes from two other people. The first one has black eyes. You are the only one here who's got black eyes." He paused. "Well, I suppose we could say Near has black eyes too, but first of all, I'm not so sure if it's black or dark grey... and second, I never spend time with him, so the second person involved wouldn't be able to observe us together. So that leaves only you, L."

"I am not the one who invented that nickname of yours, Ray."

"Yeah, I know. Eve said..." He trailed off, lifting his head to meet L's dark orbs which seemed to gleam dangerously in the moonlight. "You were looking at me, and the rays reflected in your black eyes." He hummed thoughtfully. "Someone was observing us and 'transcribed those rays into the real world'... But who? Who saw us? And how could they _transcribe_ rays...?"

He interrupted himself, daring a curious glance at the black and white shape at the other edge of the room, but his companion remained silent.

"You must have an idea. Don't you, L?"

"This is your investigation, not mine." L responded casually. "Even if I did have the slightest idea, I would not share it with you. Besides, if I may add, you seem to manage pretty well by yourself."

Ray narrowed his eyes, not sure if L could see him. "I see. So you're not going to help. Fine," he hissed between gritted teeth.

"So first things first... I'm positive the black-eyed person was you. But now, the question is: where were we when that person saw us? A place where there's a lot of light... Where do we usually go—" R's head jolted up. "Of course. The kiosk. Someone must have seen us when we were in the kiosk... But the courtyard was always empty, and we can't see any other place from the rooftop. Then perhaps—" He stopped himself mid-sentence once again as he almost jumped to his feet.

"Of course, that's it." He claimed, his voice barely hiding his excitement. "The only place drenched in sunlight where we were able to see someone else is the terrace on the third floor. And on the terrace, we saw Dusk. And Dusk..." He started pacing the room. "Yeah, everything's clicking into place. Yes, everything's crystal clear, now. Dusk saw us the other day, and he painted. He painted what he saw; the sunset, you, me, the light in your eyes. And Eve must have seen the painting." R then turned on his heels to stare at L's dark shape. "She put a word on Dusk's thoughts. That's why she told me she wasn't the one who found the nickname, because she did nothing but translate the ideas carved onto the canvas into words."

After his long, erratic monologue, a well-deserved silence took its rightful place in the gloomy room, whereas Ray stayed still in front of L's chair, his arms spread on each side of his torso, the only remains of his turbulent speech.

"Well, it would seem you have finally reached a satisfying conclusion," L said eventually, a hint of amusement and playfulness dissimulated behind his words. "I am impressed."

"Yes..." R nodded, slightly breathless. "But, there's still something I'm not quite sure of." He tilted his head to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of the dark eyes hiding behind black messy bangs, but to no avail. "Why did Dusk associate the sun rays he saw in your eyes... to me?"

"Ah, that." Ray swore he could hear a phantom of a sigh in L's deadpan voice. "Artists are able to see further than ordinary people do. They can see things that do not belong to our physical world as clearly as I saw you this day, in the sunlight, on the terrace. They see all the things the others cannot. That is precisely what makes them so special."

"That doesn't answer my question." Ray pointed out sternly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Indeed, it doesn't. But that is because there is no answer to that question. Dusk can see things that we cannot." Ever so swiftly, L let himself slid down on the floor. "This day, he probably saw something in my eyes, something that you did not see, something that even _I_ did not even see." He stopped as he reached R's level, his voice becoming lower. "And one way or another, he decided that this very thing that inhabited my eyes at this very moment, and that was never present before, was due to none other than you."

"And..." R's voice quieted drastically, as if mimicking L's without knowing why. He did not look up at L as he walked past him. "What do you think that thing was?"

"It is late." L called him from the doorstep. "You should better go back to your dormitory, Ray."

"Yes, I know." He whirled around and followed the older's steps until the door, where he stopped in his tracks, locking his gaze with the detective's. He craved to see these rays that gave birth to his name in those mesmerizing black empty orbs.

Despite L's hunched posture, the nineteen-year-old boy was still taller than him, and without realising it, he leant in when he tilted his head up. "You didn't answer my question."

L's obsidian eyes widened ever so slightly, and a lean hand reached up to land on the teenager's shoulder, at the base of his neck. "You ask many questions," he stated, his voice strangely gentle.

L bent forward and pressed a feather kiss on the young student's forehead that caused Ray to freeze in place, mouth opening slightly, as if to give a protest that never came.

"You will make a great detective one day." L whispered, his cold breath tickling R's hair at the base of his scalp.

The slender hand pushed on his shoulder softly, forcing R to take a step backwards, only to be left alone in front of a blank closed door that separated him from the only person he wanted to see.

"Goodnight, _Ray_." The name rolled off like silk in L's mouth just before the door shut.

And Ray found himself hoping that some day, someone would caress his body as smoothly as L's voice caressed his soul.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I am sorry for the late update, I have been quite busy lately, with college, author's block and so on.**

 **Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Here we are: another Wammy's pupil has been introduced, and that one I like very much.**

 **Reminder: only 1 hidden character has been found, so you still have 4 Death Note characters to find among the students.**

 **NB: Please read attentively all the dates and numbers because all those scenes are spread over time and are quite far from one another.  
In this chapter, R is ****thirteen years old.**

 **I do not know when I will be able to update because my exams start soon, and end on the 18th of May. So please bare with me and be patient.**

 **Bye bye, humans!**

 _ **C.**_


	6. B

**To LottieRaven:** First, I want to tell you that I will **never** grow tired of your compliments.  
I am very proud to have managed to make you like the characters I imagined, and somehow I suppose it is even better if you can relate Dusk with one of your friends. It makes this character even more real, if I can say so.  
Also, please do not worry, Mello and Near, as conflictual as they may appear, will end up realizing hate does not suit them so much.  
I admit my plan was to include children gifted in arts, because I think we often forget that art is genius, and I wanted to remember that.  
I will not say much, but indeed, Eve's description of the moon is very metaphorical and you are right in thinking that it matches L and Ray's relationship as much as it matches Mello and Near's. I put much thought into that metaphor, and I like it very much too.  
I also think that you are right about L's way of thinking about prison. Sometimes it looks like L's mere body is prison to him. Everything could be considered prison to him, for he does not fit in this world. He does not fit in the world of emotions. What I like most about that character is that he is rotten to the core in some way, but remains perfectly innocent at the same time. That is why, I think, he cannot express his emotions correctly, because he knows what emotions are made of, and still he is not feeling them like any other person would. But maybe in this story, he will learn what it is to let his emotions show?  
I am very glad you like the way I portrayed him because it is always a challenge to respect every character but I hope I did a great job with him. I also think he has a tragic story, probably similar to what you just mentioned, but I feel like trying to write his past in this story would be like 'violating' the mystery and appeal of this character (I know this is not very clear, but I hope you get my point), so I will not.  
And once again, I promise your comments are **never** boring and it is always a feat to see that you left a review to share your thoughts, which are always very interesting. So please, indulge me and continue!

 **To nearlymellodramattic:** I am very glad you like my OCs. I wanted to thank you for your fidelity, I must say I am happy to see that you stick with me through all of my stories.  
As for my project of a Sebaciel fanfiction, I admit it is very far from accomplished, so you have time to get accustomed to the idea. Also, you are not obliged to like all my stories, you know? But deep down, I hope I can make you change your mind about this pairing, that would be a great achievement for me.  
Once again, thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you will like what is to come.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: B**

If Ray were to say which year of his life was the strangest of them all, he would definitely answer his fifth year in the Wammy's House. And this could be explained by three reasons.

First of all, after five years spent among the same twenty-five children, he had learnt to socialize and bare with them. And yet, as much as he tried, he had come to the conclusion that he could only remember twenty-four children out of twenty-five. Thus, there he was, investigating to try and find the twenty-fifth kid he had yet to meet.

Second of all, his fifth year was the year he finally had the chance — or rather the misfortune — to meet the mysterious unknown twenty-fifth child... and he wished he never did.

Third of all, after learning the feeling of friendliness and attachment, he discovered the most cruel feeling. _Longing._

Indeed, L was never so absent than during Ray's fifth year. He would stay for one week and a half, and then vanish for two whole months.

While he would never admit it to anyone nor to himself for that matter, without those conversations in the kiosk, without those intent stares, without those cryptic words and those lingering touches...

...Without L, he felt uncomplete.

But one day, he was condemned to face his feelings in the most unexpected way.

For once, he was sitting in one of the loveseats of the common room, desperately trying to read his famous piece of Stendhal, when he was interrupted by a loud, sniffling noise right above him, that caused him to look up in annoyance.

The sly remark never left his lips when he saw who stood in front of him. A small, dark brown-haired boy was glancing down at him, with glassy eyes, filled with unleashed tears. He sighed deeply as he rested his book on his lap.

" _Ache_ , what is it?" He asked sternly, his eyelids fluttering shut in an obvious display of weariness. He never really talked with A, but he knew him by reputation, and he knew that for that particular child, crying was something awfully common.

"T-This is... so s-sad." The fourteen-year-old child sputtered between sobs. "Y-You miss... someone, but... they... can't b-be... with you, and... you're... all... alone." He raised a hand to wipe at his nose.

Ray only frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about, Ache? I don't miss anyone."

And the child only gulped louder. "Y-Yes, you do! You're... lonely without... L."

R froze, his eyes slowly widening in bewilderment, unable to avert his gaze from the distraught kid.

"B-But you can't... do anything... about it." Ache's khaki eyes met his, and Ray was obliged to recognize that he never saw such emotional eyes. Those two orbs seemed to glow with compassion and sorrow, and R felt himself drowning into this abyss of the purest sincerity. "I-I'm so... s-sorry for you."

R was about to lay a soothing hand on the disturbed child's shoulder, but he was interrupted in his motion by the sight of a far-off black head. Hand frozen in mid-air, he startled, and without further warning, he circled A and rushed in the steps of the black disheveled hair. He followed the lean silhouette until the dormitories, but when he entered the corridor, it was empty.

Furrowing his eyebrows, the fourteen-year-old teenager walked towards L's door.

 _That's odd. L's door is not so close to the entry, so how the hell did he make it to his room so quickly?_

He knocked ever so quietly, but no answer came out. He pushed the wooden door and restrained a gasp when he was faced with a blank, empty, dark bedroom.

 _I'm sure it was L. So, if he didn't go to his room, then..._

 _Where is he?_

This evening, Ray never found L. It was as if he had never been there in the first place.

It was only three months later that he finally uncovered this mystery.

* * *

It was a dull, white morning of winter, as the courtyard and the gardens were covered in a thick layer of snow, that he finally spotted L in the school cafeteria, sitting in the farthest corner of the room, at the opposite of his usual place.

Without further ado, Ray walked towards him with his breakfast plate and settled in front of the dark-haired boy.

"L," he began in a neutral tone, looking up at him from his scrambled eggs, "it's been quite some time. Where have you been?" He asked, yet without a single hope of getting an answer.

"Here and there, I suppose." The older student replied with an empty voice, not bothering to avert his gaze from what looked like a glass jar of some red jam.

R lowered his gaze to the strange item, arching a dubious eyebrow. "What's that?"

Then, the black head lifted and Ray could not help the frown that twisted his forehead when he met dark, but unexpected, disturbing eyes.

 _What's wrong with his eyes? Usually, they're more black, more hollow, more... soothing. But now, they look almost red._

"Strawberry jam," he answered, then reaching towards him, he added, "do you want some?"

"No, thank you." Ray denied the offer, his brows furrowing even deeper.

And the other man only shrugged at his refusal, instead diving his lean fingers into the jar, cupping some jam into his palm, and raised his red-pink fingers to his mouth, licking and chewing on the jelly substance loudly.

That odd display only raised more interrogations in Ray's mind.

 _L never eats with his hands, he always uses a spoon or a fork. What the hell is wrong with him?_

As the last piece of strawberry was engulfed in the pale lips, the dark-haired pupil locked his gaze with his, and his mouth stretched into a toothy grin.

And that crossed the line Ray had mentally drawn. The fourteen-year-old boy reported his focus on his plate and attended to eat the last remnants of his breakfast in silence. A few minutes later, his plates, cups, and glass were all empty, and he stood, retrieving his platter.

"I've got to go." He said sternly without even sparing a glance at the white-dressed man in front of him. "I guess I'll see you in Psychology."

The man only smiled eerily in response.

Ray, shaking his head in disbelief, turned on his heels and headed towards the exit, lost in thought.

 _Something is wrong with L. I don't know where he had been lately, but something happened. And it certainly isn't something good._

With those morose ideas in mind, he went back to his dormitory to fetch his schoolbag and textbooks.

As he entered the Psychology class, though, he did not expect to witness such an odd sight.

L's chair was once again empty.

* * *

After a few words exchanged with K, the always overly-informed girl of the school, Ray was told that, as far as the other pupils knew, L was not present in the Wammy's House at the moment.

But R had not said his last word yet.

When the last class was finally over, he did not wait to go to the second floor, heading directly towards L's dormitory. He knocked on the door with a firm fist.

"L, I know you're here," he called, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Open the door."

"Enter," came the low, mechanical answer.

Without a second thought, Ray complied and pulled the door open. His eyebrows twitched imperceptibly when he was faced with a crouched figure on a wheel chair, fingers digging into a jam jar, a cup of black tea resting on the desk to the side.

"Ah, there you are, Ray." The dark-haired student acknowledged his presence, shooting a glance at the younger. "Perhaps you would care for some tea?" He reached to his cup, raising it in R's direction.

"Er, no, thank you." R frowned as he eyed the beverage suspiciously. "L, you look strange. Are you alright? Where have you been those last few weeks?"

He scanned the room with piercing, attentive chestnut eyes. Something was off with that bland bedroom, but he could not quite put his finger on it.

"I am quite alright." The detective replied emotionlessly, putting his cup down on the wooden table before him. "However, I would be even more alright should you accept to share a cup of tea with me."

A cold wind swirled around and caressed his cheeks icily, and R noticed that the window was wide open, on a Thursday evening, in the middle of winter. His brows furrowed madly.

 _Something is definitely wrong with him. Yet, I can't deny what's just before my eyes. This is L talking to me. But his insistence about me drinking tea... That's weird.  
_ _But I want to talk to him, so I don't have much of a choice, do I? It seems like he will not say a word before I've accepted to drink with him.  
Anyway, if it's a trap of some kind, Wammy's buildings and grounds are monitored closely. Nothing can happen to me._

He sighed wearily, closing his eyes briefly, before looking straight at the man's dark eyes.

 _Well then, so be it._

"Fine, I'll have a cup of tea."

And the mad, blinding smile he received only confirmed his worries, but he took the cup he was given nonetheless, and sipped his tea warily. Sensing nothing unusual, he took another swig and gasped quietly when he felt a sting in the hollow of his neck. Ever so slowly, he looked down and his eyes widened in understanding.

A tiny dart was planted in his neck, in the skin right above his collarbone, a thin trail of blood flowing down on his shirt.

Soon enough, a deep fog overwhelmed his mind, his limbs became numb, the cup escaped from his grasp and shattered on the ground. As he managed to rise his hand half-way to his neck, his knees buckled under his weight and his eyelids fell shut just when his knees and elbows met the floor.

An high-pitched laugh reached his ears.

"Sleep well, Raito Yagami."

Eventually, black and blood were the only remainders of his previous conscious state, for after those, he felt nothing.

* * *

His eyes fluttered open, and consciousness assaulted him with a mighty headache and a chilling breeze.

When his vision finally cleared, he took no more than three seconds to fathom what situation he was currently in. Just a few feet away from him, a slouched figure he knew all too well, and yet completely different from what he was accustomed to, was bending over him, a wide grin plattered on a glowing white face.

He did not need to look down at himself to know that his wrists as well as his ankles were bound together with a tight, rough rope.

Restraining a groan, he lifted his head to peer at his attacker.

"I knew it." He rasped through gritted teeth just as he managed to prop himself up, leaning his back against what felt like a bedside. "You're not L."

The corners of the black-haired man's mouth stretched even more.

"I don't know how this is even possible, you look exactly like him. Same body, same clothes, same voice, but..." He hissed when he was pierced with a sharp pain in his neck, remembering of the tiny needle that picked him there. "There's something wrong with you." He said, his voice now devoid of any hesitation as his determined hazel eyes locked with dark orbs. "Those things," he pointed the jam jars with a disdainful tilt of his chin, "L would never eat that. And your eyes... they look almost red. They're black, but not like L's." And his own eyes narrowed at the foreign gleam that lighted the other student's onyx eyes. "Who are you?"

All the answer he got was a high-pitched cackle.

"So clever he is, little Raito Yagami, isn't he?" The voice that was posed and calm was now croaky and hushed. "No wonder L likes you so much." Venom was sipping from his every word.

"Who are you?" Ray repeated fiercely, his tone wary and cold.

"Never heard of me, did you?" The mad man beamed at him as he bent his head sideways, a long bony finger coming to rest on his lower lip. "I'd thought L would have told you about me. It would have served you well. Yet he didn't. I wonder why he didn't." He rambled, as if for himself, and then reporting his attention to R, "Do you know why he didn't?"

"I've no idea." Ray spat in response, his patience growing thin as well as his resistance to this particularly thick headache. "But please, humour me. Do tell me. _Who the hell are you_?"

"B."

The letter was latched out at him as if it were mere garbage, and something seemed to click in R's mind.

 _The twenty-fifth pupil. I couldn't manage to set my eyes on them._

 _I know all the others. Ache, Coal, Dusk, Eve..._

 _All of them. Almost. I was so obsessed with finding L, that I didn't even think there could be someone else._

 _And I simply forgot the B. Of course._

 _Everything makes sense now._

 _I always seemed to see L. But that was not him, well not every time at least. I tend to see him quite often, but that's because he has a doppelgänger!_

 _Damn it. How could I have been so blind?_

"B?"

"Actually, I prefer B.B." B answered neutrally. "But that is merely personal consideration."

"Alright, B." Ray fought to keep his voice level, while hiding the slur and drowsiness that menaced to seep from it. "Why am I here? What do you want?"

Another humorless chuckle filled the empty room as the lean figure crouched before him, pale lips wide open on shining white teeth.

"That would be because you knocked on the door," the other boy retorted slyly.

"Yes, right," R managed to restrain a tired sigh, "let me rephrase my question. What do you want?"

"Oh, not much, really. Not much." The dark head raised to allow the bottomless eyes to wander over the ceiling as a livid thumb rose to rest on thin pursed lips. "I was merely wondering..." And the black eyes focused on him once more, an odd, threatening gleam akin to madness inhabited those deep orbs. "You seem to be quite different. And thus, I wonder..." A hand reached down into jeans pocket, returning with a sharp razor which blade reflected the moonlight gloomily, and Ray startled, inching backward almost imperceptibly.

"Is your blood different too?"

Before he had even time to register what was about to befall him, he felt an icy bit on the nape of his neck as the blade slid against his skin almost adoringly.

"I'm afraid..." He managed to utter between groans of pain. "My blood is... pretty much..." He could not help the growl that slipped through his lips as the razor pierced his flesh right above his collarbone. "Ordinary." He finished, exhausted by the effort he provided just to whisper those miserable words.

"Ah, but surely L would not settle for a genius boy within whom flow simple 'ordinary blood', now would he?" B purred into his ear, and the sound caused him to shiver in dread. "And so I will assure that your blood, as well as the rest of you, is _special_." As if to illustrate his statement, he leant forward and, tilting his head to the side in a rather catlike fashion, reached up to brush a lean finger across his neck, collecting the drops of blood that lay there.

Ray watched in horror as the blurred white figure raised his finger to his mouth and licked the dark substance.

"What _in the hell_ are you doing?" He rasped, struggling to curl away from the deranged teenager in front of him.

"I told you already," B admonished him, offering a stern look as he kept on sucking on his fingertips. "I am assuring that your blood is special." Then, his black eyebrows drew together in a deep frown and he looked up pensively. "Bitter. Very bitter, indeed. Strange, for such a young blood. Yes, very, very strange." He flashed him a brilliant grin.

"However, perhaps..." The madman mused aloud, crimson eyes twinkling with an insane, fickle glow, before he looked down, caressing the spine of his razor blade with his index and middle fingers. "If I cut in other places..."

R's chestnut eyes widened in understanding, and unconsciously crept backwards, even though he knew he could not get further as he was already pushing against the bedside.

"The chest, maybe... No. The back." The ebony head shook frenetically. "No, no, no. Not the back. The thighs, perhaps... And what of the wrists?"

"What?" Ray croaked desperately. "Alright, you had your fun. You scared me, I admit it, now your little trick doesn't work anymore." He paused as he stared at the man, who was lost in the contemplation of his razor. "B? Do you hear me? Stop it. _Now_."

His words acted as a trigger, causing the older student to meet his gaze, thin lips curling up into a large, mad smirk. "Of course. The eyes..."

"What?" But R did not have time to ponder the other's intentions as the latter lunged at him, and he did not suppress the frightened cry that escaped his lips. "NO! Stop it, B! Stop—"

He closed his eyes in a desperate attempt at shielding them, and just as the blade was about to crush into his lids, a loud bang echoed in the blank room. Ray did not open his eyes right away, still unsure of the position of the razor, but as soon as a deep, monotone voice filled his ears, he let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

"B." The voice was rich, yet icy. "You will get away from Ray. _This instant_."

"Ah. L, the great and powerful, finally decided to make an appearance for the sake of his little, precious protégé. You arrive just on time. Very convenient." He heard the giggling voice of B, and at that precise moment, he realized it was nothing like L's low and steady voice that never failed to appease and bewitch him. B's voice, on the other hand, if he put enough attention to it, had an erratic, inconsistency to it which make it all the more estranged from L's posed and calm tone.

That realization was all he needed to make sure he was safe, and his lids fluttered open, looking up and locking with familiar onyx orbs that glowered in an eerie, dangerous way. Yet, as soon as his brown eyes met L's dark ones, the obsidian orbs softened and seem to wrap him in a reassuring cloak of peace and serenity.

"Indeed, like always, I appear to be right on time," L responded casually, as if talking to a mere waitress and not to a psychopath that had just been about to kill his fellow student, even though his black penetrating gaze never once left R's. "For that very reason, I expect you to move away from Ray and stand, very slowly."

"Ah." B sighed dramatically, a ghost of an amused smile on his blood-tainted lips. "You are such a kill-joy, L, do you know that?"

"So I have been told."

B burst out laughing under the bewildered eyes of L and Roger — whose presence R had not noticed yet — before he raised his hand high above his head and lowered it in one same movement. Ray blinked as the grim light reflected on the blade that descended upon him, and once again, he had no time to do anything but shut his eyes and curl up on himself.

"H!" L howled, his voice never so loud, so full of emotion that Ray had not the strength to try and decipher.

A few thumping and bumping noises echoed all around him, and eventually, everything stilled, and he dared open one eye. The sight that awaited him was surprising to say the least. The world's detective was glaring down at him, aghast, black eyes as big as saucers, hands clenched into fists. On his left, B was crushed, face to the ground as a blond, black-clad girl was straddling his hips, twisting his arms behind his back. Yet, the madman was still smiling.

"I should have known you would have called upon your little army." B drawled, his voice muffled by the parquet. "So well surrounded you are, L."

That seemed to pull L out of his torpor, and he relaxed his shoulders, his voice returning to its neutral, inhuman tone.

"Thank you, H." He said while still not averting his eyes from R. "Now Roger will take care that B is brought to an isolation cell, from which he will not be able to escape nor purchase the other students."

Roger threw an inquisitive glance at the oldest student, but he nodded nonetheless. "I suppose it's best that B is kept away from the other pupils for quite some time. H," the old man turned towards the blond girl, "will you please help me escort B to his room?"

In response, the girl straightened and stood on her feet in one swift motion, without releasing her grip on her prisoner, who she dragged with her towards the door unceremoniously, without a word nor a look at the other people in the room.

"Very well," Roger approved and as he was about to follow her steps, he glared at L from above his spectacles. "I shall go and make sure B is well taken care of. You will accompany R back to his dormitory and then go back to yours. Is that clear?"

"Strikingly clear." Came L's bland answer.

And two pairs of eyes watched as the tall, old man exited the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as the clicking noise resounded, L turned to R, closing the distance between them. He reached out a hand, his face showing no trace whatsoever of any emotion he might have felt and that his voice had betrayed a few seconds earlier. Ray took the offered hand and let himself be drawn to his feet.

"Ray," L began solemnly, "I am afraid all my apologies would never be enough to make up for what you had to endure because of my over-confidence."

"It's all right, L," Ray shook his head, his eyes wandering on their intertwined hands, which he did not try to entangle. "I reckon B is the unstable type. You couldn't foresee what he was about to do."

L lowered his gaze to their still enlaced hands, so much it looked as if his eyelids had closed. "Actually, I could." He said quietly as he gave R's hand a small squeeze, before he let his fingers slowly slide from Ray's. "B was right. I should have warned you about those psychotic habits of his, for I knew that if he chose to assault someone in particular, he would choose you."

Ray frowned slightly as he watched L turn around, facing the moon, his silhouette looming in the window frame, the black of his disheveled hair and the white of his long-sleeved shirt merging to form one single hunched figure.

"Me? Why would he choose me of all people?"

L's shoulders dropped slightly. "Because B makes a point of targeting people most close to me."

The younger was glad they were both plunged in the dark, with L's back at him, for he would not appreciate the other man to see the undignified way his eyes had widened, nor how his hands were crossed by a light tremor.

"I see. So I am the closest person to you here, am I not?" He asked, even though his question sounded more like an assertion.

"Up to now, B never missed his target. Not once." L's voice was monotone, hollow. The dark-haired boy whirled on his heels, finally looking at Ray, his hands dug into his jeans pockets. "However, I will ensure this is the last time he hits the target. He will never win." His voice was now hard as marble, an ounce of finality and determination attached to it.

The detective took a few steps forward, standing just mere inches away from Ray, his black pools boring into him.

"It is time for you to go back to your dormitory, Ray," L said gently. "Once again, I want you to know that I am sorry for what befell upon you tonight. Unfortunately, B waited for me to be abroad, for he knew that getting to you would be easier then. I was not here to protect you, but from now on, I will make sure there is always someone here to look out for you."

"You will leave again?" R inquired, managing to keep the disappointment in his voice at bay.

"Yes."

"When?" He flinched at hearing the resentment and desperation in his own voice. "I mean, do you have another case to deal with?"

L tilted his head to the side, gnawing on his thumb nail as he peered at R curiously. "Not at the moment, no. But I can never predict when I will be called to solve another case. It could be tomorrow, next week, or in three months. For now, though, I am staying at Wammy's, so you can rest assured that no harm will come to you for the time being."

"I'm not afraid."

"Really?" He could see a dark brow arching in questioning.

"Yes. As long as I'm at Wammy's, he can't hurt me. There's always someone around. If it's not you, then it'll be the other students, or Roger and Watari. In any case, he can't do whatever he wants with all those people around, he's not free of his movements. He won't take the risk." Ray crossed his arms around his chest, as if to emphasise his speech. "He's nothing but a pale copy of you. I don't fear him."

L's hand fell from his mouth to return to its place in the pocket as the older boy averted his eyes to the floor.

"If I were you, I would be more wary." He objected, his voice suddenly grim and somber. "I will not underestimate B. He proved to me today that he is able to reach you, despite all the school guards and safeties. Thus I will not give him another opportunity to try and hurt you, Ray." He raised his head, his onyx eyes locking with brown, and they glinted with a powerful, foreign glow. " _I_ will not take the risk."

Before the gravity of L's profound statement, Ray found himself at loss for words, so he settled for a simple, curt "All right."

Nodding in agreement, L started forward and brushed past him, his forearm caressing R's on its wake.

"Now come, Ray. I have to escort you back to your dormitory."

R followed L to the door without another word, yet daring a glance at the black-haired man as the latter stood aside to let him pass. The two treaded towards Room 18, their steps echoing loudly in the empty hallway. They came to a halt before the white bland door. Ray retrieved the little grey key he kept in his pants pocket and unlocked the door as silently as possible, letting the door creak open.

Then, he turned around.

"You didn't need to accompany me, you know," he whispered as he searched L's dark eyes. "I could have returned on my own."

"It has been quite a long time since I have last seen you," L answered even more quietly, his black orbs twinkling in a rather endearing way.

"Yes, but... What does it have to do with you accompanying me?" His brows quirked upwards, the only physical proof of his confusion.

"Nothing, nothing." L's voice was so low it almost sounded like a sigh. "Goodnight, Ray." He was about to turn away when Ray's hand shot up, seizing his in a fierce grip.

"Wait." Ray glanced down at his hand securely wrapped around L's, as if afraid it would slip away again. "Did you accompany me only to spend some time with me?"

"Why else would I bother crossing a dark corridor at midnight, I wonder?" L asked, and if Ray did not know him better, he would have swore he heard a hint of amusement in the baritone voice.

Ray could not suppress the genuine, discrete smile that tugged at his lips at this very moment. "Then perhaps in turn, I should lead you back to your room too." He teased, his fingers closing around L's almost possessively.

"That would be endless, not to mention completely foolish." L retorted emotionlessly, all trace of humour vanished.

"It's not the words you ought to consider, L," Ray explained quietly as his thumb traced circles on L's palm unconsciously, "but the meaning hiding behind." Sighing slightly, he let go of L's hand to rest his on the older's shoulder. Then his free hand reached up to lay on L's livid cheek, caressing the smooth skin tenderly, deadly slow, from top to bottom.

"Thanks for your time, L." His lips stretched into a satisfied smile as he heard L drew in a sharp breath. "I hope you'll have more time to lend me in the near future."

"It seems I will have to find some, now doesn't it?" L replied in a strange, velvet voice that spread warmth throughout R's whole body. "Goodnight, Ray."

"Goodnight." He murmured in return, and he entered his room under L's scrutinising gaze.

As he lay in his bed restlessly, an odd, disturbing thought was plaguing his mind, preventing him from giving in to slumber.

 _When I held his hand, when I touched his cheek, it was as if L wasn't cold anymore._

 _I wish he would never be cold anymore._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Yes, I know this is a very late update, and I apologize for that. To be honest with you, even after my exams, I have been quite busy here and there, and I did not have time nor inspiration to write.

But here it is, so I hope you enjoyed this 6th chapter!

I don't know when I will update, but I can assure you it will be as soon as possible, and just know that no matter what, **I will never give up on any of my stories.**

Here was introduced yet another character, who will be familiar to many of you, I suppose.

 **Please follow this story and leave a review** , that would mean a lot to me.

Bye bye, humans!

 _ **C.**_


	7. H

**To LottieRaven:** I wanted to thank you for sharing your thoughts again, it is very important to me.  
Indeed, I tried to be faithful to BB's character as much as possible, though it is, in my opinion, one of the most difficult characters to portray because of his madness.  
The relationship between L and Light is at first very innocent like you pointed out, but it is slowly evolving into something much less innocent, but all the issue will be for the two protagonists to realise it and as you can guess, that will be far from easy.  
You are right to ask about their ages, I admit it might be a bit confusing. Just so you know, **R entered Wammy's at 9 years old, and L is 6 years older than him. Chapters 6 and 7 take place during R's fifth year, consequently in the last two chapters, Ray is fourteen while L is twenty.**  
Also I thank you for all your compliments, I am glad that I somehow managed to follow Death Note's style by writing some kind of an enigmatic story which asks of the reader that they read between the lines. That was my goal and I hope I reached it.  
Anyway, I hope you'll like that chapter and I look forward to read more of your reviews!

 **To nearlymellodramattic** : Thank you for your kindness and your compliments, it really means a lot to me. I must say I am delighted to know that you overcame your shyness (because really, there were no reason to be shy) and decided to write to me, because it's always a pleasure to know what the readers think.  
And indeed, I felt like I could not write a fiction setting in the Wammy's House without mentioning B and A, that would be like cheating.  
You are perfectly right, and you used the exact terms to describe L and Light's relationship: falling in love in silence, without knowing they are falling. That is exactly how I see it and how I will write this fiction.  
Really, don't prevent yourself from writing comments, because they are far from dumb and I like to know what you think, really!  
Once again, I thank you for your kind words and I hope you will like this chapter and what is to come!

* * *

 **Chapter 7: H**

The few weeks that followed what R fancied calling 'the B incident' brought its own share of mysteries.

First of all, there was that room on the third floor, which Ray used to wander to go meet with L in the kiosk on the rooftop, that had always been empty, but now seemed to be inhabited as every time he passed by, he could hear low, muffled voices coming from there.

Then, curiosity getting the best of him, he listened, ear stuck to the door, and was only half-surprised to recognise the calm voices of the oldest students of the Wammy's House.

"If you had played your part and looked after Ray like I so nicely asked you to, we wouldn't find ourselves in this predicament," said a very familiar baritone voice, blank and empty.

"L, my dear," responded a second voice, this one fleeting and light, but no less familiar, "you must know that the wolf cannot always watch over the fawn while the stag is absent."

"It was only a month, E." L retorted, a hint of weariness in his usual emotionless voice. "I did not ask much of you, just to be on your guard for the miserable thirty days I have been abroad. Surely it was not so difficult to keep an eye on Ray, or ask your friends to do so when you could not, during the short amount of time I was unable to do so myself."

"Oh, but the boy was effectively monitored. Had he not, I am quite sure I would have been incapable of warning you on time, and thus you would have arrived to his side... too late."

"Yes, I am aware of that." L replied coldly, sounding surprisingly on edge. "But perhaps if you had been more vigilant, he would not have to endure _any_ of B's sadistic whims."

"Perhaps, _perhaps_ indeed. But one can never say what 'perhaps' encloses." The oldest girl paused, before resuming in her usual mild voice. "However, I can assure you, the oversight I put in place allowed for me to be informed as soon as B took action against Ray, and consequently enabled me to call for H's help without further ado. Need I remind you that, without H's aid, B could not have been neutralized, and your protégé, moved to safety?"

"Once again, I am perfectly aware of that." L answered dryly, before falling silent for a few seconds. Then he went on, his tone regaining its perfect neutrality. "Talking of which, I must thank you for your help, H. It seems your legendary speed and efficiency struck again, and I am forever indebted to you for what you did to protect Ray three weeks ago."

"No need to thank me," another voice said mechanically, and Ray frowned at hearing the unknown female voice. It was far more taut and tough than both Eve's dreamy and L's deep voices. "I only did what I had to."

"And we are ever grateful for your dedication." Eve intervened, her eerie voice bringing a soothing atmosphere to the tense conversation. "I am sure you will one day become one of the most talented and devoted bodyguard this society has ever seen." Ray could almost see the otherworldly smile that surely graced the nineteen-year-old girl's features at this very moment. "But from now on, we shall deal with this issue on our own. I will let you know if we need your help again. Now off you go, _Harm_."

There was a short silence, then the unmistakeable noise of footsteps getting closer and closer to the door. In the blink of an eye, Ray had pulled away from the door and took a few steps backwards. The door opened in one swift motion, and a platinum blond head appeared in the doorframe, before the door was shut behind her.

Ray instantly recognized the girl who subdued B and managed to restrain him right before the maniac thrust the razorblade into his eyes. Three weeks ago, he did not linger on his saviour's appearance, but right now he admitted to being surprised to see such young, delicate face and body, knowing the damage those slender arms and hands could do if they wished so.

She seemed to be around L's age, or perhaps she was one year younger, like Eve. She had a very well defined fringe which fell on her alabaster forehead and mid-long straight blonde hair that brushed her shoulders. Bronze eyes pierced through him as the older girl raised her head to meet his gaze.

"Ray." She called, her tone slightly distrustful and wary. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just passing by, I wanted to climb up to the rooftop actually." He replied evenly, reaching up above his shoulder with his left hand to gesture towards the large metal doors at the end of the corridor which he knew led to the staircase. "Why, is there something wrong?" He perfected his act of pure innocence by a gracious lift of his eyebrows.

"No, everything's fine."

"Alright, then." He nodded stiffly. "I'll just be on my way then."

He moved towards the far end of the corridor when the dry voice of H stopped him dead in his tracks. "I wouldn't disturb them if I were you. You don't want to disturb anyone who's trying to deal with Blood, trust me."

"When you say _Blood_..." He trailed off, brows furrowing in uncertainty. "You're talking about B, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." He heard the blonde scoff quietly. "No need to tell you where _this_ nickname come from, I believe your experience three weeks ago spoke for itself."

"Indeed." He snarled through gritted teeth, then he let his voice go softer as he continued, "By the way, I've never got the opportunity, since I didn't even know it was you, but I wanted to thank you for helping me that night."

"No need to thank me, I only did what I had to."

Ray suppressed a joyless chuckle at recognising the mantra the girl resigned herself to repeat over and over again. "I know, but you still saved my life regardless. Thank you."

When he deciphered no answer whatsoever from the older student who still stood behind him, he assumed she had simply nodded in acknowledgment, putting an end to the conversation.

"See you around, _Harm_." And he started towards the metal door without hesitation, just like he had told the other pupil.

He waited for the sound of firm footsteps to vanish to allow himself to turn around and, shooting a glance around the now empty corridor, reclaimed his spot behind the door, his ear returning to the wooden surface.

"Do we know how many time we have before the effects of P's sleeping pill wear off?" He could hear L's steady voice even more clearly now, as if the detective was standing right behind the door.

"Hm-hm." Was the only dreamy answer he got.

"E." R could almost feel L's frustration even though his ever hollow voice betrayed nothing.

"Yes?"

"How many time, E?"

"Oh, nothing is so sure. After all, Pill's creations are nothing but purely experimental." She paused, as if wondering whether she should voice her thoughts aloud or not. "Nonetheless, I remember the boy mentioning a two-hour time of unfathomable unconsciousness. Now all we have to do is wait and pray this two-hour time of sleep akin to death does not turn into eternity."

"That would be the lesser of two evils." L drawled, his voice low, dangerous.

"Now, now, L." If Eve were not so inhuman, R thought that would be the time she would have laughed, yet of course, she did not so much as raised her voice pleasantly. "Surely even you are not so cruel as to wish for a fellow's death."

"You should know by now, E, that I consider B as anything _but_ my fellow." L's voice was never so icy, so harsh.

"Relationships do not always revolve around _consideration_ , L." Eve pointed out quietly, as if afraid to unnerve L any further. "The cement of all relationship of any sort lies within reciprocity. Do not consider the humans that evolve around you all you like, L, it will not change the way those very people feel about you. As such, you cannot always deny the attention others provide you for the mere motive that you do not provide any to them, for a relationship, as much as you hate to admit it, is made out of two parties, not unilaterally."

"In the event that escaped your notice, I am not particularly keen on pondering on your riddles right now, as fascinating as they may be."

"Oh, but that was by no means a riddle, L."

"Quit fooling around, E," L snapped, even if his voice remained perfectly controlled. "Your eccentricities might entertain the children and professors here, however it has been quite some time since I finally saw them for what they truly are. That is to say, nothing more than a loony lost girl's follies."

There was an intense silence, and even Ray could not help but flinch under L's cruel words. A mild sigh broke the thick silence, and soon after, Eve's calm voice echoed in the room on the other side of the door, strong in its fatality and heavy with truth.

"Such a shame. One would think a brilliant mind such as yours would be more inclined to open to all the world's curiosities and peculiarities." Another light sigh. "Even the most lunar girl can utter more sensible words than the most Cartesian spirit of a sober detective."

Feather-like, barely there footsteps made their way to the door, causing Ray to jump backwards.

"I can only hope the thin rays of a dying sunshine, lurking in the shadows behind the door, can bring light into your obscured mind, L."

R froze in place.

 _Rays. Lurking in the shadows. Behind the door._

 _Dammit! She's talking about me! She knows I'm right here, behind the door!_ _And she's offering me the possibility to escape before I am discovered._

Without further ado, seizing his only chance, he turned on his heels and lunged towards the nearest door, which was right in front of the one he had been _lurking_ — he had to admit the word was rather fitting — around and opened it in haste. He restrained himself to gape in awe as he was faced with a familiar sight he did not think he would see again so soon.

He was back on the terrace L showed him a year ago, where Dusk was painting in reverent silence, facing the sunset, and above all, where was born his nickname.

He did not even wince when the door slammed shut behind him, for he was too preoccupied replaying the second oldest student's words in his already working mind.

 _I can only hope the thin rays of a dying sunshine, lurking in the shadows behind the door, can bring light into your obscured mind, L._

Realization hit him fiercely, quickly, as the meaning of those enigmatic words suddenly became crystal clear.

 _Eve was not only warning me so I could go before she opened the door. No, of course, her words hid a far deeper meaning._

 _She was talking about me._

 _No._

 _It was about **me and L.**_

 _The thin rays of a dying sunshine. That's **me**. But..._

He frowned in incomprehension.

 _Why dying?_

 _And most of all..._

 _How am I supposed to bring light into L's mind?_

* * *

Just like when he met every other Wammy's student, R first doubted H's genius.

Just like for the other pupils, his doubt evaporated as soon as it appeared.

One week after his first meeting with the older blonde girl, the Wammy's children had Physical Education class, which Ray attended quite grudgingly. Once all the kids gathered in a giant gymnasium situated at the far end of the School grounds, a slender dark-haired woman greeted them with a reserved smile.

"Hello, children," she said in a soft voice. "Today, you'll work on your techniques in martial arts. For starters, you'll practice Capoeira." She scanned the assembly, until her gaze fell on one particular student. " _Harm_ , come here. You will demonstrate for your mates."

Ray watched in focused silence as the platinum blonde stood out from the crowd and approached the teacher with steady, gracious footsteps. From this point, everything happened so fast that all the pupils could barely blink, lest they miss three out of five moves the two women exchanged to try and bring the other down on the mat. And so, R stared as the teacher blocked alternatively H's arm, foot, elbow and knee, out of breath, puffing on her black fringe.

Yet, for one second, her dark eyes widened as a foot flew towards her, hitting her belly violently, propelling her backwards on the thin rug. Every child looked bemused as the master was bested by the pupil so easily. The lean dark-haired woman glanced up at the blonde girl who had simply put her foot back on the floor as if nothing ever happened, and smiled thinly.

"Very good, _Harm_." She muttered between pants.

"I only did what you taught me," H replied casually as she reached down towards her teacher.

"Yes, well," the older woman laughed lightly as she took the hand and let herself be brought back on her feet, "you're quite the quick learner, _Harm_." Once straightened up, she dusted her pants and sleeves before turning towards the class. "Well, here you got your demonstration. Now it's your turn to show me what you learnt from our previous lessons and from what you just saw. Now, get in pairs and begin!"

R was certain the combat between the teacher and _Harm_ — who must be a genius in martial arts — had lasted nothing less than five or perhaps seven minutes, but when he became aware that L had barely had time to walk from the door to his left side since the fight had begun, he understood that he was clearly mistaken.

The fight had in fact lasted less than forty seconds, and the two women had time to perform twenty-five moves _each_ , whereas L had barely had time to walk the twenty steps that separated the door from the spot which R occupied in the crowd of student.

Thus, he reached the same conclusion he was forced to draw for all the other students he met thus far.

H, nicknamed _Harm —_ and quite accurately, he must add _—_ was a genius in physical combat.

Pulling himself out of his reflection, he looked around to see the children forming groups of two and starting to train, yet their motions were slow, unbalanced and hesitant. The only group which managed to honour the finesse of the discipline was the pair formed by Harm — obviously — and a taller dark-haired boy whom he recognised as S. He noticed K was practicing with a very stiff and cranky-looking T, while Gary, the tattooed hefty boy who threatened him in his first week of school, was trying to mimic H's agility in his fight against J, the all jeans-wearing boy, who was defending himself rather pitifully.

Ray frowned when his eyes met a rather disturbing sight. In a corner of the gym, a well-known velvet-clad girl was sitting on the ground, a balloon glass in her right hand. Before her was crouched a famous blank figure, with equally pallid skin and hair.

 _Near and Eve._

He observed in curiosity as a tall blonde leather-clad boy approached the two sitting silhouettes.

"Come on, Near!" He called, and a sneer could be heard in his hoarse voice. "Get up and fight!"

When the younger child obviously did not grace his request with an answer, Mello growled. "Coward!"

His brows lifted ever so slightly as Eve stood up and walked towards the turbulent kid and placed a hand on his shoulder. R was not surprised not to hear Eve's words to Mello, knowing how quiet the girl's voice might be for a normally constituted human ear. Soon enough, Mello shook the hand off and whirled around, fists clenched in anger.

"So much for your so called _fair_ education." He snapped as he headed back towards the group of training students. "He's always different, isn't he? Why can't he be normal for a change?" Mello groaned under his breath, unaware of R as he walked past him, then he added quietly, as if for himself, "Why can't _I_ be normal?"

Furrowing his eyebrows even more deeply, Ray wondered what Mello could possibly mean by _normal_. Surely, every child in this institution could not be considered _normal_. He was interrupted in his train of thought by a low, deep voice which tickled his ear.

"Will you do me the honour?" A cold hand brushed his shoulder blades, then slid down his back ever so gently. He restrained a shiver as he tilted his head to the side.

"What?"

"Well, to practice Capoeira with me, of course." L responded, blinking at him several times, as if he just asked the most moronic question ever.

Ray could not help but feel disappointed. He suppressed a sigh just in time, and shook his head instead. Why would he be disappointed, anyway?

He turned around to face the black and white figure. "Sure." He nodded and positioned himself on his bent legs, hands stretched and opened before him, just like the PE teacher had taught them.

For what seemed like an eternity, bottomless black eyes locked with chestnut and Ray found himself unable to avert his gaze. The two onyx orbs seemed to pierce right through his skull, to eat at his brain and drink at his soul. However, it was with an icy dread that he admitted he did not care and even more so, he _appreciated_ this maddening intensity. And so, he met L's hypnotising gaze with an odd acceptance, just like the suicidal boy who stands at the edge of the cliff and accepts his fate despite his own sanity.

He opened his mouth to say something, though he was not sure what, when he saw the first blow coming straight to him. No time for breathing, no time for blinking, he lunged to the floor to dodge L's foot, rolled to the side and got up straight away, waiting for the new attack which was sure to come sooner rather than later. He revelled in L's motionlessness to rush forward and throw his fit towards the pale older man, unfortunately L seemed to have foreseen such a move, for he immediately turned his head to the side, causing Ray to miss his shot and thus loose his balance, tumbling forward.

He had barely time to register he was about to fall on the other student, when a foot met his belly, and just like H brought down the teacher, L, standing on one bent knee, managed to push him backwards with the only force of his foot.

He hit the mat with a grunt — irritation it was, not pain — and raised a arm to cover his eyes in annoyance. Yet, he was forced to open them when he felt a weight land on his hips. His brown eyes went as big as saucers as he was met with black twinkling eyes staring down at him.

"What—"

"I am a lot stronger than I look, you know." L said evenly as if it explained everything, including this unexpected position.

"Yes..." Ray trailed off hesitantly and, even though he would never admit it, not even to himself, a little breathlessly. "I can see that." He added sarcastically, his eyes roaming over L's lean figure pining him down.

L did not answer, apparently satisfied to do nothing but straddle him, disheveled head bent over him, his thumb resting on his lower lip. R took advantage of the other's silence to take a few heavy breaths, recovering from a rather strenuous, yet rapid, fight. His attention was fast focused back on the older boy however, when he felt a palm press on his chest.

He raised his gaze to search for L's black eyes, but those seemed entranced with the sight of something else, something lower than his eyes.

Suddenly, the fingertip that was glued to L's mouth detached itself from the livid lips and descended on R's mouth, the tip of L's thumb caressing his lower lip back and forth, the obsidian orbs transfixed on the movement.

"L..." Ray croaked, and at hearing his own broken voice, he cleared his throat, swallowing the strange desire to lick his lips. "L, what... What are you doing?"

Black pools glanced up to bore into brown, the hand on his chest squeezed tighter, and the finger on his lips retreated, finding its rightful place on L's lower lip. A dark brow quirked upwards.

"I..." L's brows furrowed madly as his eyes fell on his hand resting on R's chest. Ray glanced down in confusion and could barely hold back a gasp. His own hand had curled around L's, and he did not even _feel_ it. "I don't know." L said, his voice hollow, foreign in such an intimate situation.

They stayed there, still, one boy lying on the ground, the other straddling his hips, amber eyes lost in black.

"L." A stern voice broke the charm.

The two students turned their head towards the dark-haired woman who was looming over them, hands on her hips, lips twitching with contempt — or was it bewilderment?

"Even though I recognize your technique has drastically improved, I never asked you to _crush_ my students."

L lowered his head, though it was obvious to R it had nothing to do with shame, before he crouched back and away from Ray. "Of course. I don't know what came over me. A rash moment, no doubt." He propped himself up using his hands. "My apologies."

The teacher merely nodded in acknowledgment as she turned on her heels, her long black hair billowing in her wake. "Make sure it doesn't happen again."

L did not reply but reach down to R. Arching a sceptic eyebrow, Ray accepted the outstretched hand and hid his surprise when he was pulled on his feet with sharp strength. When he was standing right in front of the other man, his hand still intertwined in L's, he did not let go. Instead, he took a step forward, his body colliding with L's, their tangled hands trapped between their chests.

"What was that about, L?" He whispered, his eyes gleaming with purpose when he met L's blank orbs.

In response, L looked down and without another word, he disentangled his hand from R's and pushed on the younger's chest fiercely, as if to put as much distance as possible between them. He turned around, hands dug into his jeans pockets, shoulders hunched, and it was as if their previous proximity — _intimacy_ — had been nothing but a cruel illusion.

"Miss Misora is a very good teacher, I suppose." He drawled, and he gestured towards the exit without a glance backwards.

And Ray had to summon all his willpower not to yell at him.

 _You know I wasn't speaking about the combat! You know you did something strange! Something you shouldn't have done!_

 _What happened? Why did you do that? Why won't you answer me?_

 _L, come back! You coward! Answer me!_

 _Why won't you say it?!_

"You cannot expect the monster to understand why he suddenly feels the desire — the _need_ — to protect its victim, while all he ever did was destroy innocence wherever it crossed his bloody path."

Ray startled when the familiar eerie voice reached his ears, but he had no time to answer for when he looked in the general direction of the phantom voice, the oldest, and probably wisest girl of the House had vanished behind the heavy metal doors of the gymnasium.

Oddly enough, the only thought that burnt his mind at this very moment was the following.

 _She called L a monster._

 _How dare she?_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.

 **N.B. In Chapters 6 and 7, Ray is fourteen, while L is twenty years old.**

I don't know when I'll be able to update, but it shall be during the next two weeks. So please be patient.

 **Until then, please leave a review if you like this story and its** **characters. Tell me which one you prefer so far?**

Bye bye, humans!

 _ **C.**_


	8. S

**To InsaneRabbit** : I thank you for your amazing review. I am glad that you think I did a great job with creating this universe. I am also happy that you share my opinion about the different kind of genius. People truly are close-minded when it comes to genius, it really is a shame.  
Also, I believe you kind of called me a genius for writing about all those geniuses, so once again, thank you, I am flattered.  
I'm very happy that you like this story, and I hope that you'll like what is to come.  
Please keep reviewing, it was a pleasure reading from you.

 **To AlmaDreams9** : Thank you so much for your compliments, it really means a lot to me. I find it very difficult to portray the evolution of a relationship as twisted as the one L and Light share and I was afraid to fail, so if I succeeded in some way, I am more than glad.  
Hoping you'll like what's next and that you'll keep sharing your thoughts!

 **To LottieRaven** : I answered your review by PM, I hope you did receive it.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: S**

It had been one month since the 'B incident' had occurred, and R admitted to being astonished to find _Blood_ was still locked in that dark, small room on the third floor, monitored by only L's irregular presence and E's much more recurrent one. He was even more amazed to realize he was not the only one to take interest in B's condition.

The last two weeks, he felt another presence, a taller, black silhouette hovering somewhere in the corridor as he listened at the closed door. And finally, one day, the unwelcome presence made itself known.

" _Ray_ ," a steady, neutral voice caused him to whirl around to face a lean, black-haired boy with grey eyes. "If you're going to spy on them like this everyday, you've got to be a little more discreet."

"S." Ray spat in response as he finally recognized the older boy, who revealed to be H's most close acquaintance. "Thank you for your concern, but you should know I have never been discovered as for now."

"Sure. That was only an advice. After all, they don't call me _Spy_ for nothing."

 _Oh. So that is what he's good at_ , Ray thought rather detachedly. _Spying. Great._

 _"_ Well then, _Spy_ ," he replied, emphasising the other's nickname in disdain, "if you're so good at spying, as your nickname suggests, you'll be able to tell me why Blood has been detained in that room for one whole month."

"Of course." The dark-haired male answered evenly, his grey eyes never leaving R's. "But I'm not sure you're ready to know what's happening behind that door."

"I'm perfectly able to know what I can handle and what I cannot, thank you." snapped Ray as the corner of his mouth curled up in contempt. "So now that you're here and that you've finally come out of the shadows, you'd do well to tell me what you know."

Spy averted his gaze to glance at the black door, as if to search for motivation, before he spoke in a low, confidential tone. "It's been weeks since L and Eve had been interviewing him. They sometimes asked for H's support, in case he lost his mind, freed himself from his binds and tried to assault them." He paused, as if unsure how to proceed. "The Wammy's House and its executives, namely Watari and Roger, are trying to understand Blood, to know if he ought to be transferred to an asylum or simply follow a therapy of some sort. Eve is trying to enter his soul, while L is trying to penetrate his mind. So far, as you can guess, it's been a complete waste."

"Then why didn't they free him?" R frowned in dismay. "They can't lock him there for ever, that would be against the most basic human rights."

"Humans rights?" Spy repeated with a snort, his gaze still fixed on the door. "L and Eve don't care about human rights."

"What do you mean?" Ray could not help but feel a thin thread of dread creep in his guts.

"As you must've noticed, L lives for intellectual challenge, while Eve lives to study peculiarities. What place do you think human rights hold in such obsessed minds?"

"I see." R retorted dryly, raising a hand to rest under his chin in a thoughtful way. "So you are basically saying that L and Eve, the two oldest and wisest students of this institution, have been torturing _Blood_ for one month in order to learn informations, and that the Directors just gave a tacit assent but other than that, didn't even lift a finger to stop them?"

"I'm only telling you what I gathered from the few times I... paid a visit." Spy shrugged nonchalantly, but no less elegantly in his white shirt and black slacks. " _You_ 're the one who's drawing the conclusions."

"I see. Yet something is troubling me." The strength of Ray's amber eyes seemed to dig holes into S's head. "Why are you spying on them?"

"I only did what I had to." S said dully, and he turned around, heading towards the exit of the hallway. "Just like you, I suppose." And he disappeared into the darkness of the moonlight.

Ray stared at his back until it vanished from his vision at the far end of the corridor, and all he could think of was how familiar the words he just heard sounded to him. Soon enough, his overdeveloped mind was able to make the link between those words and his memories.

 _That's right._

 _These are the exact same words Harm is always repeating, over and over._

 _That can only mean one thing. They are working towards the same goal._

 _Now, the question is..._

 _Who are they working for?_

* * *

The answer to this question came only several weeks ago.

It took its sweet time probably because he had many other issues to investigate beforehand. Such as L's extracurricular hobbies on the third floor for instance. One night, he decided he couldn't bear not to know anymore, so he followed L to the room with the idea to confront him.

As expected, at eleven pm, L left his dormitory and headed towards the third floor in his usual nonchalant attitude, unaware of the two shadows which remained attached to his steps. Once arrived in the moonlit corridor, Ray stole a glance above his shoulder in time to see S merge into the darkness of a small corner created by a protruding wall and a door.

Ray nodded to him and, leaving his own hiding place, he rushed slightly to catch up with L, who stopped in his tracks.

"Who is there?" L asked in a monotone without even bothering to turn around.

"L." R called confidently. "It's Ray."

There was a silence, then, "What are you doing here, Ray? You should be in bed." L's voice was suddenly lower, more threatening.

"As should you, L." He replied defiantly as he took the last steps which still separated him from L. "I know you've been there quite often recently, to talk with B — or should I say — to _make_ him talk. I want to know why." He added firmly when he finally reached L's side.

The world's greatest detective had his head bent downwards, his hands dug into his jeans pocket, his onyx eyes drowned under his black spiky mop of hair. He looked wether defeated or completely hypnotized by an unknown entity. Frowning and slightly worried, though he would never admit it, Ray lay a hand on the older boy's forearm.

"L?"

"That is, I am afraid, none of your business, Ray." answered L in a strange aloof voice after one moment's pause. He seemed to have finally emerged from his torpor and raised his head to look at R. "It is very late. You should go back to your dormitory. And never come back." He averted his gaze to the black door which stood on his left. "What happens behind that door stays behind that door."

"But what are you doing behind that door?"

Another silence. Then, L whirled around to face him, and his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, just like two gems waiting to be discovered and Ray found himself drawn towards those shining orbs. He wanted to get closer, always closer, to decipher this eerie flicker, to dissect those pupils, to embrace them, to dive into those dark waters, to kiss this shadows, to...

He froze when he finally regained his senses. He had closed the distance between L and himself, and stood now face to face with a very perplexed detective who was staring at him intently, head bowed to the side. Instead of appearing disturbed or scared by this sudden proximity, Ray lifted his chin proudly and spoke, as fiercely as ever.

"I know that you've been here with Eve to try and make him talk. I've heard some weird noises. I don't know what exactly you've been doing, but something is sure: it certainly isn't very legal." He stretched to stand on his tiptoes. "So what are you going to do? Get rid of me? Threaten me? Buy my silence?" He paused, gauging how his words affected the detective, but the latter looked as impassive and unconcerned as ever. "Or you could simply give me the answers I want."

Several seconds passed during which nothing happened. Finally, a light sigh escaped L's lips and he placed a cold hand on Ray's shoulder.

"I will do nothing of the sort." L said simply, his hand applying a light but comfortable pressure on R's shoulder. "But I assure you, Ray, you do _not_ want to know what I am doing in this room. Yet, it is strictly necessary. B is insane, uncontrollable, inhuman. Any conventional means would be utterly inefficient. I don't have a choice."

And L turned to seize the doorknob when he was interrupted by Ray's warm hand on his.

"No! You do have a choice. Take him to an asylum. Put him to jail. Clearly, his place isn't in an orphanage and you know it!"

"Unfortunately, it is not mine to decide." L deadpanned, but he made no move to open the door. "Watari and Roger wish to keep him here."

"Did they ask you and Eve to torture him, too? Because you're the eldest students? The strongest? Or the less human, perhaps?"

At those words, Ray was sure he felt an almost imperceptible shudder go through L's back and arm. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on L's pallid hand.

"Of course not," L snapped suddenly, even though his voice remained perfectly controlled. "They merely asked us to make him talk. The means used to do so are mine and E's only."

All of a sudden, both his concern and determination faded away all at once, leaving nothing but weariness and disgust. "Fine," Ray spat as he removed his hand from L's, noticing another chill running through L's spine as he withdrew from him. "Do whatever you want. I knew you were no human, anyway."

Without further ado, he turned away from the detective and started towards the stairs, keen on leaving this sombre place as soon as possible and forgetting all about L's role in the treatment of one deranged pupil.

He was about to exit the corridor when he heard a steady echo of a very well-known emotionless voice.

"Goodnight, Ray. I suggest you cease your nocturnal prospections from now on. Surely you have something better to do at this late hour..."

Ray didn't waste time to answer and instead pick up the pace. When he crossed the path of a tall, dark shape hidden in the dark between two windows, he mumbled angrily. "Let it go. There's nothing to see." And he descended the stairs, well aware that the shadow wasn't following him, but too unnerved to care.

That night, he didn't wait to hear L's quiet footsteps regaining his dormitory.

That night, he went to his bed as soon as he passed the door and he fell asleep as soon as his ear fell on the pillow.

* * *

The morning after, Ray entered the cafeteria to have breakfast. As soon as he raised his head, his brown eyes met dark onyx. He maintained eye contact for a few seconds, then he turned away and headed for another table, sitting next to Matt and across from Mello.

"Hi, Ray," said Matt in his usual cheerful but absent tone.

"Hello, Matt." He answered neutrally, and crossed Mello's blue eyes, "Hello, Mello."

The blonde boy only nodded and bit into his chocolate bar.

 ** _Croc_**.

"You're not sitting with L this morning." Mello remarked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Indeed." Ray looked up from his scrambled eggs to sneak a peek at the blonde.

"Why?"

"That's none of you business, Mello."

"Oh, come on!" Mello leant back against his chair, spreading his arms in exasperation. "Don't play mysterious with us, Ray. It doesn't work anymore." He opened his thin mouth, as if to add something, but he shut it instantly, eyebrows furrowing as he looked far ahead. "Hey. What d'you think Near's doing?"

Mirroring Mello's frowning, Ray rotated his upper body to follow Mello's piercing gaze.

Indeed, at the far end of the room was Near, crouched on the ground, Legos scattered all around him, and before him stood Harm and Spy, looming over him and seeming to be entranced by what they were hearing. Despite Near's position, there was no doubt he had the upper hand in whatever conversation he was sharing with the tall black-clad students.

"That's strange," said Ray, still frowning in confusion, "Near is never present at breakfast. So why would he be today, and furthermore, to speak with Harm and Spy."

"Hmm. Maybe he's tired of his loneliness and decided to have a social life."

Mello and Ray both turned towards Matt who had taken his eyes off his GameBoy Advance to utter this absurd theory.

"Yeah, sure," Mello jeered, the corners of his lips twisting into a smirk, "and tomorrow he'll start a classical dance club."

"Wait. Is that possible?" Matt asked in sudden interest, blinking at the blonde. "Can we create some clubs?"

Mello only growled and kicked Matt's foot under the table.

"Ow!"

"Seriously, Matt! Come. _on_." Mello grumbled through gritted teeth as he leant forward on his elbows. "Near's been weird lately. Not so focused on his cards, didn't finish his last puzzle, didn't fill the common room with those fucking towers of dice, didn't knock off all his dominos either..." He made a dramatic pause and glanced at Matt and Ray alternatively. "I'm telling you, something's wrong with Near. And I wanna know why."

"Okay, let's say you're right." Matt shrugged. "So what? What're you gonna do, hm?"

"That's the problem. I don't know yet. But I'm gonna find a way, trust me."

"Why don't you ask him?" Matt proposed, though his voice was lacking faith.

"Are you kidding me?" Mello almost shouted, scowling at this friend as if he were mere garbage. "Why don't I ask him? Why don't _I_ ask _him_?! Well, maybe because he hates me! And I hate _him_!"

"Then, if you hate him so much, why are you wondering what is wrong with him?" Ray interrupted Mello's rant in a calm, composed tone, impervious to Matt's slight nervousness and Mello's fury.

"Because... because..." Mello started in raged, trembling voice. "Because I wanna know! Because he's my enemy! And to beat him, I have to find his weakness, don't I?"

"I guess you do," agreed Matt, still not so convinced. "But Ray's got a point, though. You seem to know all of his activities. Why, Mello? Why are you so concerned?"

"Because... I just told you!" Mello exploded, attracting several alarmed looks from A, C, I and J among others. He lowered his voice before continuing, "I wanna know what's wrong so I can use it against him!"

"Alright, alright!" Matt intervened, extending his hands before him in a peaceful gesture. "You wanna know his weakness, alright. So what are you gonna do?"

"If I may," R answered in Mello's place, "I think you should start by questioning H and S."

"Really?" Mello's blue eyes glued to R's hazel orbs, suspicious anew. "Why?"

"Well, Near is making an exception to his loneliness for them, isn't he?"

Mello averted R's gaze to look at the white-haired boy sitting at the other end of the room. "You're right. That's a start." Without another word, he stood, took his tray and went away.

"I've got something to do, see you in Literature."

"Okay." Matt answered absently while Ray only nodded in his orange juice.

 _Just the morning after something happened on the third floor, Near appears at breakfast and is talking to S._

 _How odd._

* * *

After a long day of class, Ray was studying in the library, as he was used to, when he heard some muffled voices coming from behind the nearest shelves. Frowning at the disturbance, he looked up from his law essay about the death penalty and tried to recognise whose the voices belonged to. Obliged to admit he couldn't, he stood up and went to the shelves, pretending to search for a handbook on criminal law, just then he could finally decipher some words.

"...still locked up in that room on the third floor," came a strong feminine voice he could easily associate with Harm.

"I know. Yesterday, I saw Ray confront L about it. L wasn't very keen on admitting what he was doing in this room by night," answered a lower voice which clearly belonged to Spy.

"I see." A cold, slightly higher voice interfered. Ray widened his eyes when he recognised Near's bland voice. "And if he refused to confide in Ray, we can suppose he won't say a word to anyone." After that, deafening ticking noises of something light colliding with wood came from behind the rows of books.

 **Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.**

Ray winced and pressed his hands to his ears.

"Why not?" asked Spy.

"Because L seems to be very close to Ray," Harm replied in an even tone, as if it were mere blatancy. "I was there when B tried to kill him. L was out of his mind. I never saw him so... expressive."

"Precisely." Near confirmed in his usual icy tone. "Thus we can be sure that, if L talks to anyone, it will be Ray."

"Alright. So what do we do? Watch over Ray, or watch over L?"

"Watch over both." Near answered casually.

"Okay."

"By the way," the only female cut in their conversation, "Mello came to me this morning to ask me about you, Near."

The ticking and rubbing noises stopped abruptly, and Ray guessed Near's hand was frozen above the dominos he was playing with.

"About me?"

"Yes. He affirmed something was wrong with you and he wanted to know what."

"Why would Mello want to know what is wrong with me?" Near's voice sounded hushed, almost hesitant.

"No idea." H answered bluntly. "Maybe he's aware of what is taking place on the third floor."

"I seriously doubt it."

"Me too," Spy agreed. "All those nights I spent spying on L and Eve, I was alone, except for Ray who was trying to uncover L's whereabouts. And I'm quite sure Ray would never share what he saw, or what he thinks for that matter, with anyone."

"It makes sense." H said with no real conviction. "Though that doesn't tell me what I am to do with Mello."

"Do whatever you want, Harm." Near stated emotionlessly. "If you think it best to share our informations with Mello, you are free to do so."

"Fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a private lesson with Miss Misora."

"You're free to go, Harm."

With a regular, steady tapping noise of heels on the parquet, H left the library, leaving only Near and Spy at a table, and Ray hiding behind a bookshelf.

"Are you sure about that?" Spy asked in a slightly worried tone.

"About what?"

"About telling Mello. Or letting Harm tell him. I mean, do you really trust Mello with these informations?" He paused, and resumed more quietly, urgently. "This is no game, Near. If what happens on the third floor reached the local authorities, it could undoubtedly lead to legal procedure and probably the closure of the Wammy's House."

"I know, Spy." Near said blankly. "But Mello knows it as well. If he were to get hold of those informations, I am sure he would be clever enough to keep them for himself."

"If you say so."

There was a silence, and then Spy spoke again, this time with more certainty and less anxiety.

"What about Eve? She's involved in all this too. Even if she's not getting her hands dirty like L is, she must—"

"Only because she is not physically hurting B doesn't mean she is not getting her hands dirty. Sometimes, mental torture is much worse than physical torture. Especially when it's done by someone as insensitive and detached as Eve."

"Eve? Insensitive and detached?" Spy snorted half-heartedly. "Near, that's L you're describing, not Eve. We both know that if someone isn't human in this school, it would be L, not Eve."

For unknown reasons, Ray felt his blood boiling in his veins at those words, and his grip on the book was so harsh that his nails was digging into the cover. And for some other unknown reason, Near seemed to share his disagreement.

"That's where you are wrong, Spy." He said firmly, his voice totally void of any feeling. Another ticking noise told Ray he was rebuilding his rows of dominos. "Eve was the one who decided that L did not deserve a name because _she_ considered he was not human enough. Who is the less human of all? The one who is declared inhuman or the one who chooses who is human and who is not?"

"Yes, well, I admit she's a bit twisted and probably not very sane, but we are all mad in our own way here, so—"

"No." Near cut him off sharply. "You do not understand what I am telling you. Listen well, Spy." Three consecutive tapping noises announced he had placed three more dominos. "Who is deciding who should have a name and who should not? Who is deciding of all the children's names? Who is deciding which name we will bear and be called by our whole life? Who is aware of all the stories that we want to hide? Who is trying to enter our minds when talking to us? Who is playing God here?"

Silence answered him, indicating that Spy couldn't find an answer to those numerous questions.

"This is Eve, not L." Near continued mercilessly. "L might seem callous and heartless, but he never proclaimed himself to be inhuman. Eve did, and she decided he did not deserve a name for that reason. Think about it: someone who thinks themselves above others, enough to claim who deserves to be treated as humans and who doesn't. Doesn't it ring a bell?"

"Er... This is someone playing God, I suppose." Spy tried, though not sounding too convinced by his own conclusion.

"No. This is not a simple fool playing God. This is a psychopath, a tyrant, a mad man." Near marked a pause, as if to make sure his words sank in Spy's brain. "I don't know about you, but I only know of one person who ever behaved that way."

Another silence pointed the fact that Spy was once again speechless, and thus, Near supplied an answer.

"Adolf Hitler."

This time, the silence seemed to reach not only Spy, but the entire library and perhaps the entire building. It was cutting, cold and empty. The blood that was burning Ray's veins before had now turned to ice, and chills were running down his spine, enhancing this overwhelming feeling of cool dread. He was quite certain Spy was in the same state as him, for a few minutes later, the deep, tough voice of S resounded in the whole library, but it was never so weak, so tremulous than it was at that very moment.

"Right. I'll just go, now, I think. I'll take a look at the third floor tonight, see if I can learn a bit more. I'll... focus my research on L, I think."

"Yes, do that," answered Near, his voice as dispassionate as ever. "It is useless to try and spy on Eve. Leave her to L."

"Okay... See you tomorrow, Near."

"Goodnight, Spy."

Another pair of tapping noises on the parquet, those far less steady, told Ray that he was now alone in the library with Near. When the door shut, he sighed quietly, straightened his jacket collar, settled his fringe on his forehead and sat back at his chair.

The law essay about death penalty seemed suddenly and strangely bright and appealing.

He was so entranced with his subject that he didn't hear the next concert of ticking noises that came from the other side of the shelves.

 **Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.**

* * *

After his rather conflicting discussion with L that one night on the third floor, in front of that damned black door, R resigned himself to ignore L. At first, he thought he could manage just fine, however soon enough he realized it was going to be anything but a piece of cake, so to speak.

Wherever he went, he could feel the weight of two obsidian orbs boring into his head. In the morning at the cafeteria, during the day in class, in the evenings at the library, and in the night, in the darkness of the corridors. In the depths of his slumber he could hear a deep, smooth voice slithering in his ears, he could see a white and blue shape floating in the sunset sky, dark disheveled strands dancing in the cold wind, and two black holes which wanted nothing but swallow him whole.

If he were quite honest with himself, he would say that every day and every night was an ordeal.

His tolerance threshold was reached on the 26th of February, that is to say, on his very birthday.

He was used, just like the other twenty-five pupils of the Wammy's House, to overlook his birthday on each year that passed, for his previous life was definitively over and the general philosophy of the House left no place for the past.

Yet, on the night of his fifteen's birthday, a knock on his door surprised him as he was revising his History lesson on the Second World War. His perspective mind immediately concluded to some of Roger's nightly visits, and without a second thought he went to open the door. When the wood withdrew to reveal the darkness of the corridor and more importantly, a dark mop of hair, two onyx gleaming eyes and white translucent skin, he froze.

"L." He said simply, lacking for a better salutation.

"Good evening, Ray," L greeted him in his usual monotone, and Ray fought not to shiver at hearing this soft sound he had missed far too much — even though he would never admit it.

"What are you doing here, L?" He asked perhaps a bit too aggressively, his brows furrowing in irritation.

"May I come in?"

Ray stared at the detective for several long seconds before he passed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Fine." And he strode aside to let the older student in. Without leaving any time for L to object, he went to sit on his desk wheelchair, whirling around to face L who walked slowly towards the bed and perched himself on the edge, his naked tiptoes curling on the bedsheets.

R raised an eyebrow at that but otherwise did not react. "So? To what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired, unable to conceal his impatience.

Only silence answered him.

L's silhouette was half-lit by the moonlight and the tiny white desk lamp, making him look even more unearthly, almost ethereal.

"L?"

Silence.

An annoyed sigh escaped Ray's lips as he let himself slide from his chair and reached for L. He stood right in front of him, hands on his hips, brown eyes piercing down at him.

"I'm talking to you, L." He said coldly, not moving an inch. "You came here for a reason. So, I'm listening."

Suddenly, as if pulled out of his trance, L lowered his head, his hand naturally coming up to his lips to gnaw on his thumbnail.

"Do you really think I am inhuman?" He asked eventually, his voice low and mechanical.

R opened his mouth in surprise, but closed it soon after. He scratched his chin absentmindedly, eyebrows still furrowed. "No," he said after a long pause. "No, I don't think you are."

Ever so slowly, the unruly-haired head straightened and Ray found himself pinned by those two twinkling obsidians.

"That would be a problem if you thought otherwise..." L began in an odd uncertain voice, and seeing R's confused look, he continued, "for you are my first ever friend."

At that, Ray widened his eyes in shock.

 _Wait. What? What the hell is he—_

"Aren't you?" He was pulled out of his troubled thoughts by L's soothing voice, and he was once again unsettled by the intensity of the two onyx eyes which kept him prisoner.

"Yes," he answered without thinking, still transfixed by L's hypnotising eyes. "Of course I am."

"That's good." L averted his gaze to the side wall and nodded to himself. He did not made a move to leave.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

A short pause, and then L propped himself up on his feet.

"Actually, no. In fact, there is one thing I want to give you." He bent his head to the side as he dug his right hand in his pocket. He took out some kind of a small grey rectangular device and hold it to R. "I shall go abroad again anytime soon. I want you to have it while I am away."

Drowned in bewilderment, Ray blinked at him, then looked down at the grey metallic device that he took in his hands. "What is this?"

"A cellphone," L replied blankly. "If there is a problem, anything at all, or if, for some reason, you simply feel the need to... talk to me, do not hesitate." He grasped R's hands in his and caused the clamshell phone to flip open. "Call me." The phone screen went white and then turned into the menu screen. L pressed a key, and a list composed of one single entry appeared. "My phone number is already registered."

Ray's eyes remained locked on the phone screen for a short while before he could look up into L's bottomless eyes.

"But, why?"

L released his hand and took a step back. "I do not trust Watari, Roger or any student of this faculty to keep you safe." His hands found their rightful place in his jeans pockets and his dark gaze wandered to the window while he resumed speaking, as if talking to himself. "That would be a problem if Ray was hurt, for Ray is my first ever friend."

And at this very moment, Ray had to admit to being utterly defeated. When he looked at L, at his nonchalant stance, his absent gaze and his wrinkled clothes, he could not help but feel irresistibly attracted by this strange humanity, and drastically enticed by this grim inhumanity.

L was both a beautiful machine and an ugly human. A splendid man, and yet a disgusting robot. He was all at once.

Before he realized it, Ray had walked the three steps that separated him from this unreal being and he was now standing right before L.

"L—"

"Happy birthday, Ray." L cut him off, but his voice was never so caressing.

L's pale hand found a way to R's face and stroked his cheek gently, almost tenderly, and Ray was rendered speechless. The touch seemed to last forever, and not long enough at the same time. When Ray felt the fingers withdrawing, he did not think and enclosed L's hand in his to keep it in place — its rightful place.

"Thank you." He murmured.

It was like the two boys were frozen in time and place, and when L finally managed to remove his hand from R's grip, it was as if the charm had been broken. Ray's hand fell at his side, and he stared at L in silence, drinking in the darkness of his eyes, as if hoping to get intoxicated to death.

Even though their hands had parted, their eyes did not seem very keen on doing the same just yet, and so they stayed still, face to face, hazel eyes locked with black, mouths closed in awe.

Soon enough, Ray couldn't bear it anymore. He had to talk, he had to ask, he had to know. And so, he opened his lips...

But was interrupted by a forefinger which landed on his lips, sealing his mouth and his dying words. He looked up at L, eyebrows raised in silent question.

All he got was a deadpan, "Goodnight, Ray." And as soon as his name was pronounced, the tiny pressure on his lips disappeared, the black mesmerising eyes merged into the darkness of the room, and the white shape of the older pupil vanished into thin air.

Instead of answering or calling after the retreating detective, all Ray could do was let go of a shaky breath and close his eyes in defeat.

 _Damn you, L._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

I am so very sorry for the delayed update. I have been very busy with college, friends and so on, and I suffered a bit of a blank page syndrome too.  
But guess what? I am back, as twisted and crazy as ever, at your service.

To make it up to you, I tried to post a chapter a bit longer than usual, I hope it will suffice for you to forgive me.

So here is chapter 8, I hope you enjoyed it.

 **N.B. At the end of the chapter, R is fifteen years old and L is twenty-one.**

Yet another character has been introduced. Maybe you guessed whom it was (this one was not very difficult to find), and if you think you did, feel free to PM me.

 **Please leave a review and tell me what you think about this chapter or this story!**

I will try to update in the next two weeks, I promise.

 **Bye bye, humans!**

 _ **C.**_


	9. Announcement: Please read

Hello everyone who is following _the Letters_ ,

I am so very sorry to make you wait for an update, I know how frustrating it can be.  
I just wanted to tell you that **I did not give up on the Letters** , and I shall update one day or another.  
To be honest, the reason is quite simple: I am in Master degree in Law and I have a lot of work, and I find myself **unable to concile studies and writing** at the moment.  
But rest assured that as soon as I'll be more available, I'll continue writing that story which is very dear to me.

 **I apologize once again for the delay, and I hope you will keep following me despite everything.**

Sincerely Yours,

 ** _C_**.


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